


Love, Death, and Parasomnia

by captain_trashmouth



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Demons, And Neither Do I, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Demon Lio, Demon Sex, Demons Are Assholes, Demons do not adhere to the gender binary, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Entomophobia, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Families of Choice, Fellas is it gay to fall in love with the demon that eats your nightmares?, Graphic Violence, Human Galo, Loneliness, M/M, Musophobia, Mutual Pining, Night Terrors, Non-Binary Author, Non-binary Lio, Non-binary character, Pining, Playing fast and loose with demon lore, Please read the content warnings for each chapter! They are important!, Political Intrigue, Self-Mutilation, Shapeshifting, Shit is dark, Sleep Paralysis, Slow Burn, Teeth, Torture, Xenophilia, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 69,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_trashmouth/pseuds/captain_trashmouth
Summary: Galo has always had night terrors, and has encountered numerous varieties of nightmare creatures that he calls his 'sleep paralysis demons'.However, his dreams are a lot more pleasant since he met Lio, who just happens to be the scariest sleep paralysis demon of them all.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 193
Kudos: 393





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hi hello I started writing a new thing. It is an idea I had based on my own experiences with sleep paralysis and a lifetime of dealing with night terrors, and I thought it might be fun to play with this concept.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story. I am having a lot of fun writing it so far. Updates will happen as I write, as this is an active WIP.
> 
> \- cap

His shift ended like it always did, and he bid his teammates good night as he stuffed his belongings into his stinky gym bag. He hadn’t been able to muster the energy to shower at the fire station after he clocked out, so he’d simply changed into his street clothes and dragged his tired body home. He was in a foul mood, his mind shifting into a very distinct haze that he knew that he could not snap out of. He fed himself mechanically, chewing with his mouth open as he shoveled down tepid Kraft macaroni and cheese. He coughed as he inhaled a clump of cheese powder that had not incorporated completely. This crap wasn’t something he necessarily _wanted_ to eat per se, but it was on sale and it had the correct amount of calories that he needed. As he did most nights, he ate straight from his single cooking pot while leaning over the kitchen sink. It tasted like nothing, and he felt neither better nor full after he’d eaten. 

The shabby studio apartment he called home was not much, but then, he told himself that he did not need much. He was only one person and was chronically single. He tried to make himself feel better about it by saying that it was better for the environment and that he was not entitled to more space than one person would require. He looked at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror, taking in the tired circles beneath his eyes. No matter how well he took care of himself, sleep was the one aspect of his life that he could never get completely under his control. His face had begun to show signs of wear, weathered by lack of rest and the stress that comes along with it. He rubbed his chin, scraping his palm against his day-old stubble and debated whether he should even bother shaving or not. The deep bruises beneath his eyes made him look older, and not in a sophisticated way. His friends would describe him as the life of the party, as someone that lit up a room, but here? Here he just looked like a person that was deeply lonely.

He sighed through his nose, allowing himself a small, private moment of self-pity. He was still young and handsome, by many standards. He had never had any trouble getting attention when he wanted it, but establishing a long-term relationship? Impossible. No one could stand to spend more than one night in his bed, running for the hills after they witnessed him in the throes of a night terror. When he did bring someone home, he always made them leave before it was time to go to bed. He’d garnered a reputation for being a womanizer, or a ‘fuckboy’ as his foster sister had called him. At sixteen, Ariel had become an absolute pistol and had a rebellious streak that tended to get her into trouble. Galo’s eyebrows had nearly flown off his face when he’d first heard that word come out of her mouth. He had asked her if she knew what that word meant, and she had crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. She pointed at him with the angry index finger of an exasperated parent and had accused him of choosing to be lonely. He had no way to tell her how wrong she was in that regard. He was so tired of being alone, worn down by the isolation that waited for him at home. It was the reason he spent so much time at the firehouse during the day, even on his days off. He had thought that maybe doing overnight shift work would help ease his troubles, but after the first shift, he’d been moved back to days. The captain had told him that his night terrors were scaring the other people sleeping in the bunk room, and he’d handed over a business card for yet another sleep specialist. He’d called her the next day.

With age, he had learned how to sense the nightmares coming, in the same way that an arthritic joint will twinge before it rains. He had felt that telltale fog settle over his mind as he sat on the couch watching some mindless syndicated sitcom rerun, but it was inevitable. He could force himself to stay awake all he liked, but whenever he did finally fall asleep, the inescapable dream would always be there. He resigned himself to knowing that he would be woken up in the middle of the night yet again, thanks to his own brain’s inability to chill the fuck out. Medication did not help and sometimes made the nightmares worse, making the panic worse and the dreams last even longer. He’d seen countless doctors and specialists who made him participate in multiple sleep studies, but the answers all came back the same: go to bed earlier, stay off your phone before you go to bed, stop watching scary movies, go to therapy for your past trauma, there is nothing physically wrong with you. He wanted to tell them all to go fuck themselves and to do their goddamn jobs and _fix him_ , but that would not get him anywhere in the end.

Still, all he could do was white-knuckle it through it once it started. When he was a kid, the best he could hope for was that he woke up the next morning without having accidentally hurt himself or scared his foster siblings again. Things were not much better now, ten years on. In the journal he kept in his bedside drawer, he scribbled the date and time on a blank page and wrote ‘ _Bad night coming’_. His newest foster sister, a sunny six-year-old girl named Aubrey, had gotten him this journal for Christmas, and had looked so very pleased with herself when he’d opened it. He could not bear to tell her that he just wasn’t as into Hello Kitty as she was, but it was all worth it to see his adoptive parents’ faces beaming as he scooped Aubrey into a bear hug. He might have been jaded and full of ennui, but he wasn’t a _monster_. The journal had sat untouched in its little box for months, until Galo had decided it was time to try a new sleep specialist. Now, here he was, making eye contact with a beady-eyed little cat as he tried to put his thoughts together enough to form coherent sentences.

The journal’s cutesy appearance was a stark contrast to its contents. The pages between the pink patent leather covers contained endless dates and handwritten notes, all documenting the history and nature of the night terrors he’d encountered. His most recent doctor had said this would help. She thought it might help him relax if he tried to put a name to the monsters he encountered. The logic, the doctor had said, was that if you see something scary but give it a silly name, you can acknowledge it for what it is and move on from it. He thought that was a crock of shit, but he was willing to try anything. He was starting to think that maybe he was cursed or haunted or something, since there did not seem to be a reasonable explanation for this affliction. “I’m way too old for this shit,” he grumbled to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face and allowed himself to succumb to sleep.

\------------------

The dream always began the same way. 

He was eleven years old again. He lay on his back in his childhood bed, completely rigid. The covers were pulled up to his chin and tucked tight around him as he stared up at the ceiling. His mother used to do that, claiming that it would help him sleep better if he were all tucked in. Acrid black smoke flowed in from under the closed door and began to pool in the corner of his room. Adult Galo’s brain was still online though his body was not, and he could not help but notice that the way the smoke moved was unnatural. Smoke simply did not behave that way, did not stay so localized. The heat of the room alone was blistering, oppressive and cruel as it caused him to pour sweat beneath the well-loved blanket that his nana had crocheted for him. As he always did, he tried to sit up. His body wouldn’t comply, as if there were a tremendously heavy weight settled right over his sternum. His muscles were all locked in place, unable to even wiggle a finger. His eyes were wide open and began to fill with tears as the smoke began to make them sting. He could not even blink.

The caustic smoke continued collect in the corner, forming the outline of a body. The mass of it churned like a living thing, writhing and knotting back over itself, rolling in sickening coils as it found form. Its ropy limbs protruded from every surface, all undulating and pulsing with nauseating motion. It made Galo’s stomach lurch with a sickly burn every time he saw it. It did not matter how many times he had encountered this particular being or its like, it still made him feel ill to look upon it. It was not something of this world, something that his mind did not have the capacity to make sense of or understand, but there in the grip of the dream? It was incredibly, terribly real. It was wreathed in shadow, growing larger and more jagged as it crawled across the ceiling, skittering and listing as it moved. It seemed to absorb the smoke, using it to change its shape and it was never still long enough for Galo to truly get a good look at it. Its many unnaturally long legs did not carry its bulk evenly, causing it to move with a drunken gait that somehow made it more menacing.

His chest hurt as it began to scrabble across the popcorn-textured plaster, clenched tight as his breathing became more strained. His breaths were too fast and too shallow as panic flashed through him. He did not know what was worse: being caught by this creature or being unable to escape the fire that had started to take his bedroom door. The being seemed to drag the fire with it, its body growing even more bulbous and crooked as it fed on the flames now licking over the walls. As it loomed over him, dripping from the ceiling as if it were pretending to be fluid, he tried to scream. He tried to scream, but he choked on it as the heat and the smoke seared his lungs. It continued to spiral down toward him, until it remained suspended mere inches from his face. The creature had no head, no face to speak of, but it did have a mouth. A wide, gaping maw yawned open, causing black saliva to drip out from between its flame-colored teeth. It pooled slickly on Galo’s sweaty forehead, dripping into his hair and he hyperventilated as he still tried to make a sound. He was going to die; he was going to die, and no one would ever know. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as it lunged for his face, finally able to fling his arm up to shield himself- and then it was gone, dissipated like the very smoke it had been borne from. 

“Oh dear,” a voice murmured, as a cool hand stroked his cheek and brushed his damp hair back from his forehead. “That was a nasty dream, wasn’t it?” the voice asked, soft and comforting. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. I’ve sent them away.” Galo’s eyes fluttered open as he stirred, catching the briefest glimpse of a figure in his peripheral vision: a flash of white hair, the shine of eyes floating in the dark. “Don’t worry anymore. You’re safe now.” Galo felt the faintest brush of lips on his forehead, the ghost of a kiss. “Go back to sleep, Galo. I’ll keep watch.”

He felt the call of sleep crest again like a tidal wave, but he fought it. “Dad?” Galo croaked out. That couldn’t be right. Who the hell _was_ that? The voice was so close, practically speaking into his ear. Galo blinked, struggling to open his eyes as he fought his way out of the fog. His eyes struggled to focus in the darkness of the room as he sat up. The voice had been deep and masculine, causing his heart to leap for a moment when he mistook it for his father in his sleep-addled haze. He realized that he was speaking to no one, just the empty air of his studio apartment. He was alone, but for the last vestiges of his nightmare. His biological parents were long gone. His father lay buried next to his mother as he had for ten years, both lost to the ravages of the fire that had claimed his childhood home. His chest was wracked with a single dry sob, as it was every time he allowed himself to focus on everything that he had lost. He desperately searched for a memory of their faces but found none. They were just fuzzy impressionist paintings now, and that hurt even worse than their loss did. While the dream was terrible, the flood of reality that hit when it was over was always like a physical assault. It felt like losing them all over again. 

He rubbed the grit out of his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He had lived through the same nightmare so many times, but nothing had ever been able to interrupt it, to tear him from its grasp. Maybe his father had come to visit him, to save him one more time. Maybe God or whoever was out there had finally listened and had sent him an angel to watch over him. He snorted at the thought. As if he would be that lucky. His skin still tingled with the phantom sensation of the touch, and he could have sworn it was real. It had felt so very real. His arm ached in a bone-deep way, the scar tissue pulling tight as he shifted. He hissed as he untwisted himself from the sheets, the rough fabric only further irritating the damaged skin. His joints popped and complained as he stood and shed the pajamas he’d sweat through and clicked on the bedside lamp. He took care of the arm first, as it would only hurt worse if he didn’t. With that done, his mind sorted through his mental catalog, trying to recall the specific categories that he’d assigned to each of the wide variety of creatures that he saw in his dreams. He decided that it would have to be vague for now and wrote a brief description of its form and how it moved. He hated that he felt like he was building a bestiary, a compendium of detailed information about monsters that he would never be able to hunt. It felt foolish to put this much effort into something that may as well have been drawings of a child’s creepy imaginary friends.

As for the new being, well… That seemed a category all its own. He wasn’t sure if it was anything like the others, as none of the monsters had ever spoken to him before. He had not been able to get a good look at it. Had he still been dreaming when he’d seen it? Its behavior was strange, not at all like the usual tall, dark figures that typically stood in the corner of his room and stared him down, or loomed over him, leaning close to his face while he lay paralyzed beneath them. This was different, and he made a note: _Friendly? Woke me up and said that it had “sent them away”._ Beneath it he wrote the rest of what he had remembered of what the thing had said, which was just all the more puzzling. He tossed the journal aside haphazardly and climbed back into bed, sprawled atop the covers in his boxers. Sleep washed over him again, carrying him away in the iron grip of its riptide toward the first real rest he’d gotten in a very long time. If he had been awake enough to notice, he would have found it strange that there were now far fewer shadows in his room.

\------------------

By the grace of God or whatever, Galo was granted a week of dreamless, peaceful nights after that. His coworkers had commented on how much better he looked, and he had an extra spring in his step. Hell, he felt _good._ Not just well-rested, but good about himself. He felt like a million bucks, and he was going to run with it while he had it. After his shift ended, he rounded up his coworkers and nipped at their heels like a gigantic humanoid sheepdog until they all begrudgingly complied with his demands that they go out for a drink. The night went off without a hitch, with many hours spent snarking back and forth at each other over too much beer and even more pizza. Eventually, people started to get tired and they all went their separate ways. Galo did not want to go home, but he did not have anywhere else to go. He sighed as he let himself in and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. He cracked open another beer and numbed his brain by watching yet another hour of garbage television. He finally started to yawn and decided that it was time to try to lie down. He brushed his teeth, debated flossing but thought better of it, and climbed into bed. He was out instantly, but the alcohol had dulled his senses. He had not noticed the aura that preceded his nightmares, and he soon found himself in the hold of the dream.

He lay on his back again. His legs hung off the end of his childhood bed, he had grown too tall to fit in it anymore. Smoke poured in from under the door and began to pool in the corner of the room. The writhing mass took a different shape, sprouting legs and arms from a central trunk. If the creature had been human, the positions of its legs and arms would have been reversed, giving it a broken crab walk as it moved. As it continued to grow, its head became bloated and swollen, hanging in the air like the heavily pregnant belly of an overbred dog. It was waddling on its backward limbs, the rocking motion of the body causing the distended head to sway and undulate. The scrabbling sounds of its nails against the texture of the ceiling made Galo clench his teeth, his jaw so tight that his teeth felt like they might cartoonishly crack and shatter. Pieces of plaster started to flake away from the places it touched, leaving asbestos-filled snow falling in its wake. Fire had begun to lick up the walls, claiming his bookshelf and the race car rug on the floor had started to melt. The plastic fibers blackened and crinkled, leaving the picturesque road map that the rug had depicted as nothing more than a charred wasteland. 

The creature on the ceiling had not stopped its approach. The weight of its tumefied head was causing it to drift as it moved, until it was directly above the end of Galo’s bed. His feet were uncovered, leaving him vulnerable the creature’s touch. The great hideous balloon of its head rotated as it looked at Galo with its eyeless gaze, and Galo knew that it knew. Still frozen in place, he willed his body to move, to pull his feet in or they would be taken from him, but his muscles were locked up and would not move. He began to whimper and cry out through his clenched teeth as his breathing picked up, terror sweeping through him as the creature made its way up over the end of the bed. Its hands were adorned by too many fingers with too many knuckles, hyperextending and curling in on themselves as it began to feel around for Galo’s exposed feet. He tried to kick it away, still sobbing and trying to scream as his body held him trapped. The creature’s head lolled to the side, and a slit in its torso opened to reveal serrated rows of teeth. From that revolting maw, a tongue unfurled, gray and slimy as the rest of it. It curled over the arch of his foot, making him scream in horror and revulsion as it began to wind its way up his leg. His chest was so heavy, so heavy, he couldn’t breathe-

“Galo,” a voice said. The sound was impossibly deep and full of static, like many voices layered over each other and spoken through a poor phone connection. The creature froze where it stood, its vile worm-like tongue still wrapped around Galo’s foot and threaded between his toes.

“Galo, let me in,” the voice came again. Galo whimpered and tried to kick, but the creature still did not release him. “Galo Thymos,” the voice boomed louder, serious and refusing to be ignored. “Do you invite me in?” Galo was weeping through clenched teeth. His jaw ached and his head was pounding, but he nodded his desperately. 

The fire bloomed white hot as the door was kicked in. The monster retracted its tongue into its disgusting mouth and tried to scrabble away as a figure came into view through the veil of smoke. It was draped in shadow as it stalked forward. All Galo could see of it were the three white horns that spiraled from its head which was haloed by pale hair, and the great black wings that unfolded from its back, spreading so wide that it created a physical barrier between Galo and the creature. Galo scrambled backward and tucked himself into the corner, making himself as small as possible. It was only after he’d already moved that he realized that he could move at all. He was still able to see the monster that had attacked him and the monster that had come to save him, but he could not decide which he feared more. The winged being picked up the smoke creature in its clawed hands and wrenched the creature’s head clean off of its body in one smooth motion. It looked effortless, like a child pulling the head from a Barbie doll. Whatever this was, it tossed the parts aside like so much garbage, and folded its wings around itself. It stood there, its fury palpable. Teal and pink flashes of light pulsed across the veins of its wings, like something from a deep-sea documentary Galo had once watched during an insomniac episode.

“Galo,” the voice from earlier said, as the creature it belonged to faced away. “It’s time for you to wake up.”

Abruptly, Galo realized that his eyes were open, and he was staring into the dark of his bedroom. Nothing was on fire, nothing was broken. His flung off his covers and reached down to touch his foot, sighing in relief as he found that it was dry and not slimy with saliva as he had been dreading. He groaned and rubbed his eyes again, feeling a lot like he’d been hit by a truck. His muscles were sore and stiff, and he nearly fell over when he tried to stand up too fast. He clicked on the flashlight on his cell phone, too lazy to reach for the mechanism of the bedside lamp. The dim glow caught the flash of eye-shine, and Galo shrieked and reflexively did a karate kick as the flashlight illuminated a figure standing at his bedside. 

The kick hit home, forcing a soft, “Ow, what the fuck, Galo?” out of the intruder.

“Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house!” Galo hissed, uncertain as to why he felt like he should not yell at this person. “I’m serious! I’ll call the fucking cops! No, wait- I have a _gun_!” He was lying about the gun. He didn’t even have a baseball bat, but he sure was hell wasn’t going to let this lunatic know that. “Get out!"

“Galo, do you really have to do this right now?” the figure gave a long-suffering sigh as if this was a normal argument that they had frequently. The tone of voice was so exasperated that Galo was taken aback. “You should be sleeping. You have to work in the morning. 

“How am I supposed to sleep with you, a total and complete stranger, _lurking in my dark house,_ you absolute fucking _freak_?!” Galo was pissed, and he was not going to let this person boss him around right now.

“Turn on the lamp,” came the hesitant reply. The body had moved away from the shine of the flashlight. “Just… Promise you won’t scream.”

“I make _no_ fucking promises to you, you fucking _psychopath_!” Galo cursed loudly as he banged his pinky toe on the edge of the nightstand, and he fumbled for the switch on the lamp. Yellow lamp light flooded the dark studio apartment, and the figure was fully visible for the first time.

Galo screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are you here?” Galo asked, suddenly aware that there must be some important reason for it.
> 
> “It’s complicated,” the demon answered, shrugging as they turned away. “But as for a simple answer, you could say that I am here to find out why you present such a draw for all these lesser demons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so VERY different from the last piece I wrote and it's fighting me a little. I have a few more things to tweak about the final outline of this story, but I think you will all (hopefully) be pleased with where it goes.
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos keep me motivated. It really makes my day to see what you have to say and I look forward to your comments and notes! Thanks for reading. :)
> 
> Note: Lio uses they/them pronouns, and I will defend that with my LIFE. I'll be doing some minor edits to this chapter for grammar and spelling.
> 
> \- cap

Although he would never admit it, not even under oath in a court of law, Galo screamed like a little girl when he finally processed what he was seeing. Casually sprawled in his favorite (and only) leather recliner, lounged what he could only describe as a demon. A very, very nude demon whose tail lashed back and forth in a low arc across the floor as Galo continued to gawk at them. They looked bored with the whole situation and sat with their thighs spread wide as they rested their cheek on their fist. Galo clapped his hands over his eyes like a child and screeched, “Bro, why the _fuck_ are you _naked_?!” 

“This is my plane-bound form,” they said, frowning in vague annoyance. The being before him looked down at their bare body appraisingly and looked satisfied. They paused for a second, then cocked their head to the side as if they realized that they may be making some human social faux pas that they were unaware of. “Why, what’s wrong with it? I tried to aim for human-shaped, did I do it wrong? Do you guys not have tails anymore?”

Galo could not even begin to answer that question. “Put your dick away, dude! If you have other genitals, do _not_ tell me about them but put those away, too! You’re offending my delicate sensibilities!” His face felt hot as he peeked through his fingers to try to dig out a pair of shorts or something for this being to put on. He came up empty and instead whined, “Ugh, and you’ve gone and dragged your sweaty nutsack all over my nice chair. I’m going to have to bleach everything!” 

The being furrowed their brows and stuck out their tongue in concentration as their body did some strange ripple and shimmer. Galo kept staring at that little fork at the end of it, and he could not tell if he was fascinated or horrified. The skin of their lower belly and groin glowed a soft blue for a moment, before leaving their pubic area as smooth and featureless as an action figure. Galo blanched as the creature looked pleased with their handiwork and asked, “Is that better?” 

“Oh my God, _no_ , that’s even worse! Don’t ever do that again! Put it back!” Galo wailed, still reeling from the massive upheaval of his reality, and flapped his hands when the demon just sadly looked down at their smooth crotch and back up at Galo. “Put it back!”

The being rolled their eyes and their body shimmered again, returning their form to its previous state. “First you say to put it away, and then you get mad when I do. I don’t understand you.” They motioned at their still very much exposed dick, and Galo learned that the blaze of white skin and scales that covered their face and chest did not go all the way down. “Do you not like this type of body part? I guess my information was incorrect. I can change it to another kind, but-”

“I meant that you should _wear clothes_ and- wait,” Galo interrupted. He narrowed his eyes upon realizing what the demon had implied and pointed an accusing finger at them. “That is _none of your goddamn business_ ,” he hissed at the very rude creature before returning to digging through the wrong drawer in his dresser. How the hell did this demon know that? He’d never told anyone the full extent of his preferences, as he wasn’t even entirely sure of them himself. Galo idly wondered if the demon could read his thoughts, then screamed internally as his face flamed. Finally, he gave up and in a flustered act of desperation, he pulled off his own sleep shorts and threw them in the creature’s face. Standing there clad only in his boxers and t-shirt, he demanded, “Put these on, please, before I burst into flames and die. By the way, can you read thoughts? Because if you can read thoughts, then you should-” Galo’s mouth clamped shut so hard that his teeth clicked as he tried and failed not to stare at their ass as they bent down to step into the shorts and pull them up their toned legs. 

The demon seemed completely unphased. “No, that is outside my capabilities, at least in this tethered form. As for bursting into flames and dying, I assure you, I will not allow that to happen,” the demon helpfully reassured him as they complied with his request. They threaded their tail through one of the leg holes and frowned as though they could not get comfortable. The wiggled for a moment, and then settled on pulling the waistband of the shorts low and letting their tail drape over it. It swished around, then draped over its owner’s shoulders as if it were a sentient thing. 

Galo’s brain flipped like a pancake yielding to a spatula, and he cracked for a second. He ran both hands through his already wild bedhead, forcing it to even more gravity defying heights. “I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming,” he muttered frantically to himself, and started smacking his own cheeks in an effort to rouse himself from this fucked up dream.

“Galo,” the demon said, firmly getting his attention. “Stop that. You aren’t asleep.” They looked so silly standing there in Galo’s sleep shorts. The garment was far too big for their tiny little waist and narrow hips. Even with the ties cinched as tight as possible, the shorts still slipped down dangerously low to reveal the vee of toned abdominals and a smattering of iridescent scales. “I’ll explain everything later, but please get some rest for now.”

Galo absently nodded as he felt a powerful and very confusing rush of attraction toward this creature as his eyes traced the line of their obliques. They were smaller than he would have thought they would be, but power rolled off of them in waves despite their diminutive stature. He supposed that what he had seen in the dream was likely not an accurate representation of all of this being’s power, since they referred to this form as ‘plane-bound’ and ‘tethered’. Similar to the creature that had pulled him from his nightmare, they had a crop of white-blond hair. Three opalescent horns spiraled from their head, two situated above pointed, elfin ears with the third rising from the center of the crown of their head. Both ears were adorned with delicate rings, while the horns wore thick cuffs with ornate etchings and scrollwork in some language that Galo did not understand. Galo could not focus on their facial features for too long, or he found his mind wandering toward how plush that lower lip looked or wondering how soft their skin was. He shook away those thoughts and went back to his cataloging.

The wings from the dream were conspicuously absent, and their skin was strange, transitioning between smooth and scaled. Aside from their face and the center of their chest and belly, the remainder of their skin was midnight black, as if carved from onyx. As he’d seen of their wings, within and beneath the deep darkness of their flesh, the little pink and teal sparks danced up to the surface and fell away. The being watched him with a curious and unblinking gaze, pale pink irises bisected by a vertical pupil that dilated as Galo continued to study them with rapt attention. No matter how strange and extraordinary it was to behold them, Galo could not deny that this creature was insanely beautiful, likely the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. Despite himself, Galo, mesmerized by their alien grace, stepped closer trying to get a better look in the buttery glow of the lamp. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hand had reached out of its own accord, first to gently trace the curve of a sharp cheekbone. The little sparks that lived beneath the being’s skin showered like fireworks at the touch, flickering like the kaleidoscopic flecks of color in a flawless opal. He smiled in awe at the display, so overcome by his fascination that he was unaware of the creature closing its eyes and leaning slightly into the touch. Spurred on by his inquisitive nature and the lack of reprimand, he reached out to drag a single finger along the delicate lower curve of one of the horns. The being went tense and still, then shivered deeply as Galo wrapped his hand around the body of it as if to test if it were real. The creature cleared its throat, a very human sound that caused Galo to jump, breaking the spell of the moment.

“Galo,” they rasped, voice gravelly and low. “I find your bold attitude attractive, but I must admit that I did not expect you to be so… forward.” 

The emphasis on the last word made Galo’s eyes fly wide as he realized what they were alluding to, and that he still held a firm grip on the horn. He pulled his hand away and stumbled back as if he had been burned, blushing furiously and apologizing as he realized he’d effectively been stroking it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

The demon placated him with raised hands, the light glinting off of razor-sharp claws and the scales that gauntleted their wrists as they spoke. “For future reference… If someone has horns, it would be best to _not_ greet them that way. That’s basically the equivalent of approaching a human and grabbing them by the… what was the term that you used?” 

“The dick,” Galo wheezed, wishing that the floor would open and swallow him whole. But if that happened, he would go to hell, and wouldn’t this creature just follow him there? “I am _so_ sorry, again, I didn’t know.”

“I promise, it’s alright,” the demon asked, rising from the chair to stand before Galo. Their serious eyes burned into his own, as if the demon were trying to see his thoughts. The being’s voice was low and guarded as they peered up at him and asked, “Galo… Do you remember me at all?” 

Galo knew that he had never, ever seen anything like them before in his life. How could he have possibly forgotten if he had? He shook his head, and the creature looked back at him with an odd expression, a mixture of deep sadness, disappointment, and resolve. It was only there for a moment before they tried to force a smile as they said softly, “That’s alright. I suspected as much.”

All of Galo’s initial fear had fled entirely, leaving only awe and confusion in its wake. He was still hypnotized by the creature and could not remember why he had been so panicked to begin with. “How do you know me? Better yet, why are you here?” Galo asked, suddenly aware that there must be some important reason for it.

“It’s complicated,” the demon answered, shrugging as they turned away. The softness from earlier had been shuttered, leaving only a professional air. They were hiding something. “But as for a simple answer, you could say that I am here to find out why you present such a draw for all these lesser demons.”

“Why?” Galo pressed, puzzled. “Why would you concern yourself with me?”

The demon looked back at him over their shoulder and said, “That’s the complicated part.” They perched like a gargoyle on the foot of his bed, before turning in a little circle and curling up in a ball. “Let’s just say that there’s a lot more bureaucracy in the demon realm than you’d believe. Still, I’ll be with you for as long as I’m needed.”

“Oh.” Galo replied dumbly, still standing next to his own bed like a guest waiting for an invitation as this nameless stranger climbed right in. _Aw, to hell with it_ , he thought, and clambered in. He clicked off the lamp and snuggled under the covers, exhaustion numbing his mind to the strangeness of the situation. “By the way… Do you have a name or something you like to be called?”

In the dark, the demon’s face lit up in a flash of those happy little sparks as they smiled. It was genuine and pleased, yet very unnerving on account of all of their too-sharp teeth and the glowing of their eyes in the dark. “You may call me Lio.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Lio.” Sleep came swift and sweet.

\------------------

Galo woke up well-rested but was surprised to remember that he was not alone. Lio had not vanished come morning and was, in fact, very real and not just a figment of Galo’s sleep deprived imagination. The demon lay curled up in a little ball at the foot of the bed, their now present wings draped over their body like a blanket. It was kind of… cute. Their nose wrinkled as they slept, clearly having a dream of their own. Galo shuffled to the edge of the bed as he tried to quietly extricate himself from the rumpled bedding and make for the bathroom. When he emerged, Lio’s eyes snapped open and they sat up, their hair a messy tangle about the points of their horns. After spitting out the hair stuck in their mouth, they looked sleepily at Galo and smiled. The teeth, Galo thought, would never not unnerve him. Lio stretched and rolled to stand up, lifting their arms above their head. Their skin shone radiant in the faint light slanting through the blinds, and their muscles rippled as their wings retracted and disappeared into their body.

“How much of your appearance can you change?” Galo asked. He had always been curious about the way things worked, and Lio was no different. “Can other people see you, or am I special?”

“I can let them see me if I want them to. I can change all of it. I can look however I want, basically.” They combed through their hair with their clawed fingers, forcing it down into some semblance of order. “But this face…” Lio said softly, as if they were sharing a deep secret, “Is special to me, so I keep it.” 

“What makes it so special?” Galo replied from the kitchenette where he was clumsily fumbling with the coffee maker. “By the way, do you eat human food?”

“I don’t need to, but I like to,” Lio answered. Their tail was sore from being squished by the elastic waistband of the shorts, so they shed them. “As for the other question… That’s a story for another time.” Lio casually approached the kitchenette, curious about what Galo was up to. The smell of food had garnered their full attention. “What you makin’?”

“Eggs and toast. By the way, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, bro. I understa- goddamnit Lio, _pants_!” Galo howled as Lio continued to stare blankly at the sputtering coffee maker. “Put on some fucking _pants_ if you’re going to be near a hot stove!”

“What is this thing?” Lio asked, poking apprehensively at the machine. They scowled, hissing back at it when it hissed at them. “It’s being rude to me.”

“Nope, I’m not talking to you until you put some pants on, dude. Better yet? Go grab a shower. No offense but you’re kind of stinky.” Galo sniffed at them pointedly and made a face. Lio looked unamused but followed along without a fight. Galo looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed God for putting him through this. He shepherded a still butt ass naked Lio into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. Christ, Lio was going to give him gray hair long before his time. He made his way back to the stove to make sure the eggs hadn’t burned.

“Galo?” came a sad, muffled voice that sounded from behind the closed door.

“Yeah?” He shouted from the kitchenette. “Whatcha need, pal? There’s an extra towel in the cabinet.”

“Are you mad at me?” Lio’s voice sounded so small. “Is that why you put me in here?” 

“No? Why would I be mad at you? You need a shower because you smell sweaty and you need to wash up before you eat. Turn on the water and use the shampoo and soap. Breakfast is almost done,” Galo hollered, feeling very much like his ma in that moment. She had a habit of shouting across the house instead of just going to talk to her children. Galo suddenly missed her a lot and reminded himself to call her later. He smiled to himself as he heard the squeaking of the taps as the water turned on and the shower began to run. Ten minutes later, he had finished getting everything ready, and he found himself wondering when he’d last cooked something for another person. It felt good to be useful, he decided, and went to knock on the bathroom door. 

The door swung open and steam billowed out, and there was Lio, looking very different than they had when they had gone in. The big fluffy towel wrapped around them, making them look extra tiny beneath its bulk. The horns, tail, shimmering scales, and the dark splashes of midnight black were all gone, replaced by very human-looking skin. Their white-blond hair stuck up in disarray from having been dried with a towel, and they looked at Galo with those same luminous eyes. Their skin was pink and flushed from the heat of the shower, and Galo gulped and turned on his heel to go rummage through his dresser for some suitable clothes.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll find you something to wear,” Galo stammered, focusing extra hard on not paying attention to Lio at the moment. “Just wait a second.”

“Okay,” Lio replied softly, still standing there swimming in the overly large towel. Their eyes were downcast, and they chewed on their lower lip as if troubled.

“Hey, um. Why’d you decide to look different now?” Galo asked, swallowing hard as he handed Lio an ancient pair of running shorts from his high school track days and a crass novelty bro tank that would drown him. 

“You stared at me a lot when I looked the other way, so I thought that maybe…” Lio waved their hand vaguely and busied themself with getting dressed. “Maybe you’d like this better.”

“Oh.” Galo felt a blush cross his cheeks, and he shuffled his socked foot against the carpet. Shit, why was he suddenly shy? “You didn’t have to do that for me. I like you the other way just fine.” He eyed the way that the ill-fitting tank top hung off of Lio’s frame, which read ‘I flexed and the sleeves fell off’. It had been a gift from his parents three years ago, and much like the saddest baby shoes in the world, it had never been worn. “Well, since you’re dressed and went through all that effort, why don’t we go out? Or something? I mean, if you want to. We can go get you some clothes of your own.”

Despite looking vaguely like a scarecrow in Galo's mismatched clothes and their poofy hair, Lio’s face lit up like a fresh sunrise and Galo felt very proud of himself for having put that smile there. “Can we eat?” Lio asked eagerly.

Galo laughed and said, “We haven’t even had breakfast yet and you’re already thinking about lunch?”

“Is that bad?” Lio wondered sheepishly. “People make the most interesting foods. I never get to have them, so I didn’t want to waste the opportunity.”

“Well, then we will have to make the most of it, won’t we?” Galo replied, smirking as he pulled out his stool at the kitchenette bar. “Now hurry up and eat your eggs. I’m thinking pizza for lunch.”

“And a burger?” Lio had already wolfed down half their meal before Galo had even finished his sentence. Lio looked so deliriously cheerful at having eaten the meager breakfast, that Galo wondered how they’d respond to seeing real food. He made a note to look up Chinese buffets later. He could only imagine that tiny little Lio would put a serious hurt on that kind of place, and that was something he personally would love to see.

Galo laughed, bright and real, and said, “Sure! You can even put your pizza on your burger. Why the hell not? Fuck it.” 

Lio grinned, still a little too sharp. They had egg in their teeth as they chirped, “Fuck it.”

As Galo sat at the bar in his shitty little apartment with this very weird stranger, a literal demon who ate with all the grace of a woodchipper, he realized that he felt genuinely happy for the first time in years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why can’t you let me sit here and actively not pine in peace? Let me live, Aina.” He looked up at her and scowled, resting his cheek on his clenched fist.
> 
> “So, you admit that you’re pining?” Aina said, raising that obnoxious eyebrow again. Galo wanted to shave it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a bad anxiety week, dear readers. Might take a couple of days off, thus slowing down my update schedule just a bit. Writing forces me to put a lot of myself out there and it's uhhhh draining sometimes. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, the comments and kudos really do keep me going. It makes it all worth it to know that you're all enjoying the story that I've worked so hard on. If you really like a chapter, feel free to comment kudos +1 or something to let me know.
> 
> As usual, I'll be proofreading this chapter shortly to correct for spelling and grammar mistakes.  
> Take care of yourselves. Take your meds. Be well.
> 
> \- cap

Several weeks passed by in the blink of an eye, faster than Galo would have liked. After the initial dance of having to learn to navigate a small space that now held another person, he found that he looked forward to having someone to come home to. He had grown to orbit Lio, and Lio orbited him in turn. Given the small space, they practically lived in each other’s pockets. Lio had a way of drawing Galo in with their strange little habits and charming quirks. Galo found himself taken with the way that they got excited over the smallest things, like microwaved popcorn or how many ice cream flavors there were in the store. In the grand scheme of things, he had not learned much more about Lio or why they had come to him in the interim, but still, it was nice to have another heartbeat in the house, someone to tell about his day and to share stir fry with. He found that he’d had more energy lately and had been inspired to cook more often since Lio had appeared. 

Many of their evenings were spent with Lio sitting cross-legged on top of the breakfast bar counter, watching Galo prepare meals with unblinking focus. Soon enough, this had escalated to Lio dramatically shooing Galo out of his own kitchenette, declaring that they would be making dinner and Galo should go away. Galo had since been subjected to many truly heinous food crimes in Lio’s valiant attempts at cooking, which culminated in him having to force Lio to swear, on pain of death, that olive juice, mayonnaise, and peanut butter never again would meet. Lio’s palate was varied and interesting to say the least, but after several more failed experiments, Galo decided that he valued his gastrointestinal system and safety above all else. He decided to lay down some ground rules. The rules, in general were simple. First, Lio was to ask Galo before mixing condiments and sauces. Second, pants were mandatory while cooking (and at all times, really, but Lio kept fighting him on this), and third, wings and tails should be put away while working near a hot stove. Lio never stopped trying, standing there in the kitchenette mixing things with unbreakable concentration, little forked tongue peeking out as they tried to decide how much sriracha needed to go on that morning’s cereal. The answer was, as usual, an inordinate amount.

“Hey Lio? I’m leaving, I’ve gotta go to work,” Galo called as he left the bathroom and tucked his wallet in his back pocket. “Make sure you shut the fridge when you’re done in there, you’re going to let all the cold out.” He patted his hoodie pocket, confirming that he had his keys. “Oh, and don’t touch the stove while I’m gone.” He sniffed, smelling something acrid. “Wait, is something burning? Did you forget to turn the burner off again?”

“Galo,” Lio glared at their hands as they held a little paper plate that was adorned with some horrible blackened thing. “I tried to make you an egg.” Perhaps in its former life it had been an egg, but now it was most certainly charcoal. 

“Well, thanks for thinking of me, pal!” Galo couldn’t stop himself from grinning and tousling Lio’s hair. Lio had done away with horns for the day but had kept the black pigment and scales. Every day was different for Lio, Galo supposed. “It’s a little burnt though, so next time don’t turn the heat up so high.” 

Lio sighed dejectedly. and threw the plate in the trash can. They rearranged some things on the counter before glumly handing Galo another little paper plate. “I knew I did something wrong, but I couldn’t tell what, so I also made you two toasts.” The toast was perfect, and Galo’s heart did a little twist when he noticed how carefully and evenly Lio had spread the butter and jelly over its surface.

“You nailed it! That right there is some good-looking toast, Lio. I’ll eat it while I’m on the way. By the way, you’ve got a little something on your…” Galo licked his thumb and leaned in close as he wiped at a smudge of jelly on Lio’s cheek before he could stop himself. Lio’s skin lit up with a blindingly bright bloom of those little glimmering sparks, followed by a delicate blush. Their faces were so close, and Galo felt his breath catch in his chest as Lio looked up at him through long, pale lashes. He needed to stop himself before he did something stupid, so he did the only thing he could think to do: shove an entire piece of toast in his mouth at once. “BYE,” he said quickly through a mouthful of jelly and bread and rushed out the door. 

Lio went to the bathroom mirror and looked at their face. Why didn’t it light up like that at their own touch? Further investigation was required.

\------------------

If Galo’s good mood was blood in the water, then Aina Ardebit was most certainly a shark. He should have seen it coming as he caught sight of her pink ponytail over the back of the break room couch, but she still made a beeline for him. She’d barely let him cross the threshold of the firehouse before she was nipping at his heels in an effort to get information out of him. 

“I’ve figured out why you’ve been so weirdly cheerful,” she declared, proud of herself for deducing that much. She looked over her shoulder before she leaned close and said, “You’ve got a new girlfriend!” She dragged him to the table and practically manhandled him into a chair.

“Wrong,” Galo replied, as he noticed a blob of grape jelly on his shirt. That was going to stain, for sure.

“A boyfriend, then?” Aina asked, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially.

“Nope,” Galo deadpanned, looking very bored by the whole affair. He had never been very public about his romantic life, but Aina was dead set on knowing the details. It was starting to wear on his nerves, and he hoped she would just let it go. No such luck.

“There’s no way I’m wrong about this. You’ve definitely been seeing someone, I know it!” Aina thought for a long moment. “Perhaps… a them-friend? A theyfriend?” 

Galo tried not to freeze but he hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. “N-no.”

Aina seized the opening and ran with it, pumping her first in victory. “A-ha! Alright, well dish, girl. Tell me all about them, inquiring me needs to know.”

“Can you degenerates gossip on your own time? Some people are actually trying to work,” Remi groused from his place on the couch where he was bent over a clipboard doing paperwork. “We are a fire station, not a… place where people sit around and gossip instead of working. Anyway, shut up."

“Nailed it,” Galo said, snorting a laugh at Remi’s failed analogy.

“Oh please, Remi. It’s not Galo’s fault that you hate love and have a life-threatening allergy to fun,” Aina chided him. Remi just rolled his eyes and huffed. Aina’s hand struck out like a cobra, snagging Galo by the sleeve of his shirt as he tried to slink away. “Oh no you don’t, mister. You’re going to tell me what’s going on and you’re going to do it right now.”

Galo groaned as he sat, dropping his head onto his folded arms. “Why are you making me do this right now?”

“Making you do what?” Aina looked at him innocently. 

“Making me talk about it,” he sighed. “Why can’t you let me sit here and actively _not_ pine in peace? Let me _live_ , Aina.” He looked up at her and scowled, resting his cheek on his clenched fist.

“So, you admit that you’re pining?” Aina said, raising that obnoxious eyebrow again. Galo wanted to shave it off.

“You should have been a lawyer,” he sighed, slouching down in his chair. “Yeah, I think I am. I don’t know what to do about it though, or if I should even pursue it.”

“Do you want my opinion?” she asked, looking Galo over where he slumped like a moody teen.

“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Aina rolled her eyes as she chided him and swatted him on the arm. She looked at him seriously and said, solemn and grave, “You’re doomed.”

Galo squinted at her, confused and a little suspicious. “Explain.”

“Galo, you’re the happiest I’ve ever seen you.” Aina just sighed and breathed out through her nose, as if she was annoyed at having to explain something to a child. “Ever, Galo. I’ve known you since middle school. That’s kind of a big deal, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Galo replied. His eyes went wide at that, as if the idea had finally clicked. Why had it taken Aina saying it out loud to realize how happy he was? Had it really been so long since he’d felt something other than tired that he’d forgotten what happiness felt like?

“Yep,” Aina said, nodding sagely as if she had read his mind.

“Huh,” Galo responded, sounding a little dazed. “I’ve, uh, I’ve got to go.”

“Sure, Galo.” Aina shook her head and smiled to herself as he took off like he could not run away fast enough. “Could have at least told me their name, but whatever.”

\------------------

When Galo went home after his shift, he was surprised to find the apartment dark and empty. There was a barely legible note scrawled on the dry erase board stuck to the fridge, saying that Lio was “1 pm - gone on business”. Galo could not even begin to guess what they meant by business, but it was the first time he’d been alone in the apartment in a long time. It was weird to be lonely again. He decided that he would not waste the opportunity, and that it was time to do some research. He pulled out his ancient laptop from where it had been haphazardly shoved under his bed and climbed into the recliner. Folding his big body into the recliner, he perched the laptop on his knees and typed ‘sleep demon?’ into the search engine. It felt simplistic, but he thought that, perhaps, the best way to do this was to try to identify what species of demon Lio was, so the next logical step was to find demons that look like Lio. 

He clicked on the Images tab and was immediately bombarded with pictures, most of which were artists’ depictions of their own demons. Many were drawn as perched on the chest of a sleeping body, hunched over with their spindly limbs caging in the sleeper. Others showed a towering shadow figure leaning over the bed or standing ominously in a corner. These were all things that Galo had seen before. He was no stranger to these exact apparitions, but they were still terrifying and not a single one of them looked like Lio. He willed his heart to stop beating so hard as he continued his research and typed in a new term into the search engine. He continued this way for an hour or so, looking through several iterations and combination of the words ‘sleep’, ‘nightmare’, and ‘demon’ until he got tired. Perhaps it would be better just to ask the demon directly. 

“Lio?” Galo called, voice feeling extremely loud in the empty apartment. He started to think this was a stupid idea and that Lio could not possibly hear him, then let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squawk when a voice sounded right next to his ear.

“Yes?” Lio’s breath ghosted over the back of his neck as they chuckled. Lio had their own clothes now, but still chose to wear Galo’s, for some unknowable reason. A big t-shirt hung loose off their frame, slipping down to reveal the obsidian curve of a shoulder, the divot of a collarbone.

“I was wondering if um… If you’d mind…” Galo tried and failed to ask his questions, the demon’s proximity making his brain short circuit

“What are you looking at?” Lio asked, cocking their head to the side as they scrutinized the images on the laptop screen. “Those aren’t accurate. That kind don’t have wings.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Galo replied, closing the laptop with a click. He steeled himself, vowing to hold on to his resolve. As much as he had enjoyed Lio’s company, there were still things he needed to know. “You’ve still not answered any of my questions, and I really think I deserve to know what’s going on.”

Lio huffed a sigh and turned around, sinking down to sit on the carpet. They leaned back against the footrest of the recliner, tipping their head to rest against Galo’s thigh, and took a deep breath. Galo had gotten used to how tactile Lio usually was. They had no concept of personal space and often got closer than most people would, but never like this. This was closeness new and purposeful. 

“What do you want to know?” Lio asked, softly and more than a little guarded.

“Well, first I’d like to know what kind of demon you are. I think that would answer a lot of questions for me.” Galo swallowed hard and forced himself to keep going. “Not to be rude or anything. But some of the stuff I saw online was… scary.” Galo finished, his courage fading fast.

“I eat dreams,” Lio said simply. “I thought you knew that. Your nightmares called me.”

“Huh.” Galo could only stare at the knobs of Lio’s spine, the fine scales that littered the back of their neck as he thought it through. “Makes sense, I guess. I haven’t been dreaming lately. Is that because of you?”

“I didn’t want you to be scared anymore. Plus, I was hungry.” Lio shrugged, their face turned in profile to give a wry little smile. “I thought you might get upset if I told you.”

Galo frowned. “Why would you think I’d be upset about that?”

“Well…” Lio began, trailing off as they tucked their hair behind their ear. “It’s not really fixing the problem.” They began to idly pick at a thread on the leg of Galo’s sweatpants.

Galo felt more confused by the second. “What do you mean?”

“If I eat the dream, then you won’t be scared because you won’t remember the dream at all.” Lio gave a small shrug. They continued, “But if I eat the dream, then I can’t get rid of the demons causing them. Can’t do both.”

Galo frowned again, eyebrows furrowed. “So, I have to experience the dream for you to do your job?”

Lio nodded slowly. “If I do my mission, then you won’t have those bad dreams ever again,” they murmured, pressing their forehead against Galo’s knee. “I want you to be happy, Galo. I don’t want to make you have those nightmares anymore. I’ve seen them. I don’t want to do that to you.”

Galo reached out a tentative hand and ran his fingers through Lio’s hair. It flowed through his fingers like silk, and Lio leaned into the touch. A low hum came from their chest, rumbling against Galo’s legs where they sat. “Lio,” Galo said softly, getting their attention. “You should do your mission. I can take it, as long as you’ll be there with me.” 

Lio went rigid for a moment, and then slowly forced their shoulders to relax. Although Lio had done their best to make things clearer for Galo, there was something that they did not explain, and that was the catch. The crux of the matter was this: when their mission was completed, they would be made to leave. That was the rule for demons like Lio. They could not stay indefinitely, only until their mission was finished. Eventually, when all was said and done, they would be sent back to their realm. They would never see Galo again. Lio did not want to leave, not after having worked so hard to find Galo after all this time, to finally be close to him again. But if this was what Galo wanted? Then so be it. They would do what Galo asked. 

They sighed in resignation and nodded. “Okay.”

Galo could not help but feel like he’d just said the wrong thing, based on the way Lio seemed to deflate. He tapped Lio on the shoulder. “Hey, stand up for me?” 

When Lio stood, Galo scooped them into a big hug, squashing their tiny frame against his broad chest. Lio looked up at him and smiled, but then ducked and hid their face in Galo’s arm when their skin did the twinkle light routine. Galo released them and Lio untangled themself from his arms. That air of sadness still lingered about them but seemed to fade a bit.

“By the way,” Lio said as they moved toward the kitchenette, eyes locked on the freezer. “Your index was inaccurate. I fixed it for you.” Their words were accompanied by the sound of rummaging.

“My what?” Galo asked, confused. 

“Your log of demonic manifestations. The stuff in the pink cat book?” Lio looked at him, pointing at him with a spoon that they were about to stick directly into an ice cream container. Galo couldn’t remember when he’d last bought ice cream. Was that even safe to eat?

“Oh,” Galo said. He wasn’t sure if he should feel like this was an invasion of privacy, or if Lio was being genuinely helpful. “Thanks, I guess?”

“You’re welcome,” Lio said brightly through a mouthful of freezer burned ice cream.

“Lio, for chrissakes don’t double dip! Get a bowl, you animal!”

\------------------

Galo laid in bed reading through Lio’s updated notes on his dream journal. It felt silly to call it that, but that’s what it was. Calling it anything else made Galo feel a little too much like he was teetering on the edge of sanity, but he supposed he’d have to come to terms with it. Lio was as real as anything, and that, he guessed, was all he needed to know. His phone started buzzing where it sat on the nightstand, and Lio stirred and looked up from their spot in the recliner.

“It’s my ma, go back to sleep,” Galo reassured them as he picked up the call. “Hello?” Lio disappeared back into their blanket cocoon, now little more than a lump under a throw blanket.

“Hi hon, sorry I missed your call earlier!” His adoptive mother, his beloved ma, sounded happy to hear from him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, been busy with work. Just wanted to call and see how everyone is doing,” Galo told her as he flipped to the next page.

“We are all good here, the girls are pestering me and asking about you though. They miss you and keep asking if you’re coming home soon,” she said, chuckling. He could hear clamoring in the background, the sound of his father’s voice as he likely guided the little one upstairs for bedtime. “Well, don’t tell Ariel I told you that. You know how she is.”

Galo laughed softly as he replied, “Yeah, she’d deny it anyway. How’s dad?”

“He threw his back out again trying to climb up a ladder,” she lamented. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, when are you coming home to visit? We’d love to see you, baby. We know you work hard and you’re busy, but you know you’re always welcome.”

Galo smiled to himself as he looked at his phone screen to check the date. “How about Sunday? I’ve got the day off.”

“Sunday sounds great! I’ll let the girls and your dad know, they’ll be thrilled,” she said brightly. She continued to chatter on about what they would have, when he’d be there, but Galo could only think of Lio.

“Hey, mom?” he interrupted. “Can I, uh… Is it okay if I bring a friend?”

“A friend? Or a _friend_?” she asked, likely standing in her kitchen waggling her eyebrows. Galo supposed that being an idiot ran in the family. 

“A friend, ma,” he answered, fond and exasperated. “They’re a little eccentric. Tell everyone to be cool, okay? I don’t want you to scare them off.”

“Understood, son. I’ll tell the girls, but I make no promises for your father. You know how weird he gets around company. I don’t know what is wrong with that man, bless his heart.” As she spoke, Galo’s mind went through a series of horrible flashbacks to when he’d brought friends and romantic interests over before, and Christ, that was an understatement. 

“I’ll let you know what we decide on. Call you Saturday to confirm?” He bid her goodnight and hung up the phone.

When he glanced up, Lio was peeking at him through one cracked eyelid. “Did you just call me eccentric?”

“Be mad about it all you want, but I’m right and you know it,” Galo grinned, poking Lio in the side with a toe. 

Lio scowled at him and wrapped an afghan tighter around their shoulders. They were draped over the recliner and looked relatively comfortable, but Galo wondered if they ever got cold.

“Lio?” Galo cleared his throat. “You don’t have to sleep there. You can sleep up here. Under the covers, if you want.”

Lio looked at him, long and serious, and Galo once again felt as if they were trying to read his thoughts. Lio said nothing, but slowly climbed onto the bed and crawled their way up to the headboard. They kept glancing at him, as if he was going to revoke the invitation at any second. When Galo patted the bed next to him, they finally snuggled down into the blankets at his side. Shy now, they hid their face in the pillow and Galo took that as his cue to turn off the light. He turned on his side and lay still for a long moment, hyper aware of the shape of Lio next to him and the heat rolling off their body. It was unclear who moved first, but little by little, they slowly closed the space between them until Lio was pressed tight to Galo’s back. A skinny, scaled arm slowly wrapped around his waist and hovered stiffly, as if they were preparing to be pushed away. Galo patted their hand softly in reassurance and was rewarded by those long claws scritching gently at his tummy. Galo smiled to himself when he felt them heave a happy little sigh and burrowed even closer between his shoulder blades. The last thing he saw before he drifted off to sleep was the faint light that Lio’s sparks cast on the wall before they faded. 

And if he woke in the morning with a sleepy Lio draped over him like a drunken octopus, a mouthful of white-blond hair, and a tail wrapped tight around his ankle? Well, that was nobody’s business but his own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know we don’t have to do this, right? I can take you home if you don’t feel comfortable,” Galo said, not looking away from the road.   
> “It’s not that,” Lio murmured, barely audible over the low rumble of traffic noise. “I just care what they think of me.”  
> Galo laughed softly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a simple person. I write Promare content and my brain slams the serotonin button. Thank you all for the comments and kudos. I love seeing how you guys react to each chapter, and it inspires me to keep writing!
> 
> \- cap

Lio, scourge of the underworld, a fierce demon who did not flinch in the face of danger or pain, paced back and forth across the narrow space between the foot of the bed and the wall. Lio would rather die than admit it, but they were anxious. They were supposed to have dinner with Galo’s family that night, and the anticipation had been building all week, sitting like a stone in the bottom of their belly. Their tail swished behind them, betraying their internal turmoil as it flicked in agitated and high-strung arcs. They needed to calm down; their pacing had already nearly toppled the bedside lamp. Galo would be home from work soon, and then it would be time to go. He had picked up a short shift, even though it was his day off. They checked their appearance in the bathroom mirror again. Did their hair look okay? Had they dressed right? Did their socks match? Galo put a lot of stock in such things, and therefore Lio did, too. Their mind was a flurry of activity, thoughts buzzing like a hornet’s nest of anxiety. They had tried to distract themself from the build up after they had gotten dressed, which had resulted in them cleaning the entire apartment. The counter tops had been scrubbed within an inch of their life, and the bathroom had never been more spotless. The sound of keys turning in the lock and the rattling of the doorknob broke Lio from their fog. 

“Lio?” Galo called out to them as if they could possibly be hiding somewhere in the tiny apartment. He always did that, and Lio cherished the fact that their name was always the first thing Galo said when he got home. “Hey, are you ready to go?”

Lio chewed their lower lip and winced as their sharp teeth drew blood. Fuck, they’d have to change that. “Do I look okay?” They stood before Galo and wrung their hands. Galo’s opinion mattered the most of all.

Lio was suddenly very close, looking up at him through those long, pale lashes. Galo glanced up from where he was emptying his pockets onto the conspicuously clean kitchen counter, and nearly choked on his tongue. Did they look okay? Were they _blind_? They were wearing a forest green sweater that Galo had forgotten he had, over their standard jeans and boots. It wasn’t anything that they wouldn’t have worn normally, but something about the way that they stood shifting their weight from foot to foot as Galo looked them over, told him that they had put effort into choosing this. This vulnerability was purposeful, giving a human softness to a being that was anything but. The sleeves hung too long over their hands, making them look even more delicate than usual. When they moved, the wide neck of the sweater allowed Galo a peek at their collarbone and the tiny scales that shone like glitter there. They had pulled their hair back away from their face, tying it in a small bun at the base of their skull. Galo realized that he had gotten distracted, tracing his eyes over the graceful curve of their neck. He’d forgotten that they had asked a question, and he could only frantically nod his head in answer. 

“You look great,” he said, clearing his throat. When did it get so hot in there? “I’m going to grab a shower and change, then we can go.” Lio smiled and sat down in the recliner to wait.

Galo gathered his own street clothes and took off for the shower. Twenty minutes later, they were on their way out. Galo had decided that they would go by car, since Lio seemed particularly concerned about their appearance. They were uncharacteristically quiet on the car ride there, and it made Galo worried.

“You know we don’t have to do this, right? I can take you home if you don’t feel comfortable,” Galo said, not looking away from the road. 

“It’s not that,” Lio murmured, barely audible over the low rumble of traffic noise. “I just care what they think of me.”

Galo laughed softly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Lio gave a non-committal hum and said nothing for the rest of the ride. Galo drove on, lost in thought. Lio was strange as a person, but were they strange for a demon? Galo did not have anything to compare them to, so it was impossible to say. Still, logic would dictate that demons did not normally care what humans thought of them, so the idea struck Galo as something unique to Lio. Why did it matter so much to them? Why did _he_ matter so much to them? He could not imagine that this was a common occurrence. Damn, his life just kept getting weirder. When they pulled up at his parents’ house, Lio stayed frozen in the passenger seat. Galo got out and went around to pull the door open. He offered his hand, and Lio took it. He was loathe to let go, but he made himself anyway. Lio’s touch lingered, just as uncertain. They stood behind him, using his shoulder for cover as he knocked on the door.

When the door opened, Galo was nearly taken out at the knee by 45 pounds of screeching rowdy six year-old. Luckily, Galo dodged just in time and managed to scoop Aubrey up and swing her around before she crashed into Lio. Aubrey howled Galo’s name and buried her face in his neck as he scooped her up. “Oh my god, you’re so big! What did you eat?” Galo asked her, hefting her against his hip. “Who gave you permission to be so tall?”

“Nobody! I did it all by myself!” Aubrey crowed, tiny fists held up victoriously. “I growed!” 

“Yeah you did, munchkin. You’re going to have to carry _me_ inside the next time I see you!” Galo blew a raspberry against her chubby cheek and she shrieked again. Her laughter was interrupted when she caught sight of Lio, still shyly hiding behind Galo’s shoulder.

She pointed at Lio with great conviction. “Who’s that?” Aubrey asked, cocking her head to the side. Lio’s eyes widened slightly, as if they had not expected to be noticed.

Galo looked between them, smiling. “That’s my new friend. Their name is Lio.”

“Oh. Why’d it take you so long to bring Lio to meet me?” Aubrey said, lower lip stuck out in a dramatic pout at Galo.

“I’ve been busy at work, silly girl,” Galo said, sunny attitude on full display. “Let’s go find mama,” Galo pushed the door open the rest of the way and held his hand out for Lio again. They grabbed his wrist tightly and did not let go as they followed him into the house. Aubrey continued to chatter away, telling Galo about school and how she had made friends in kindergarten. Lio stayed close, never more than a step or two away. Their nervousness was palpable, and Galo realized that it was the first time that they had been in another person’s home in the time that Lio had been with him. They followed the sound of talking and the clanging of pots and pans into the kitchen, where Galo’s mother was busying herself with final preparations.

“Hi honey!” She greeted Galo with the same joy and sunniness that Galo carried. She smacked a loud kiss on his cheek and leaned around him when she noticed Lio. “You must be Lio. Welcome to our home, we are so happy to have you!” She yanked Lio in by the arm and squeezed them in a big hug. Lio looked terrified, but also blushed like they were honored by the action. 

“T-thank you,” they murmured, looking to Galo for guidance. 

“Is Ariel home?” Galo asked his mother, poking at Aubrey where she stood in front of Lio, staring up at them hard in the way that nosy children do. “Hey, stinker, don’t be rude.” Aubrey said nothing, but extended her tiny hand to Lio, who hesitated before taking it. She smiled up at them softly and led them away further into the house. They threw a pleading look over their shoulder at Galo as they were effectively kidnapped, but Galo just smirked and watched it happen.

“Is Lio always so shy?” his mother asked. Margaret had become a favorite among Galo’s childhood friends. She was everyone’s mother, especially to those that did not have parents of their own. She was larger than life, her heart bottomless and overwhelming to those who had never experienced the kind of love she offered. Before they adopted Galo, they had fostered many children and continued to foster many more after he had moved out. His mother was, and would always be, a saint.

“Yeah, they take a while to open up,” he said, smiling fondly at the question. Of course his mother would care about making Lio comfortable.

“They?” she glanced over her shoulder at him to confirm.

“They,” Galo answered, nodding. Galo had been lucky growing up. His parents had made it clear that whatever kind of love he chose or received, they would only be happy for him. 

“You seem to be spending a lot of time with Lio lately.” She made the comment like it was just a throwaway remark, but Galo knew what she was really doing. “You’ve become fast _friends._ ”

He rolled his eyes and leaned against the kitchen island. “I know what you’re getting at. Stop it.”

She smirked to herself as she stirred a sauce pot. “Shit,” she gasped, and then quickly looked around to make sure that Aubrey hadn’t heard her. “I forgot to ask you if Lio eats meat. I made spaghetti and meatballs.” She looked panicked, like she was mentally scrolling through alternative options.

“Ma, Lio will eat anything. They’re practically a garbage truck,” Galo reassured her. “I once saw them eat a banana with two kinds of mustard on it.”

She wrinkled her nose and smiled. “Ah, a strange one, then.”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Galo grinned. She couldn’t even begin to understand how right she was.

\------------------

Lio had not expected to be held hostage by a child, but it wasn’t turning out as badly as they had initially thought. They had learned much about the politics of imaginary princess kingdoms, and the manners required for proper tea party etiquette. They were currently sat in a chair that was far too small for them, their knees pressed uncomfortably close to their ears.

“Anyway, if you’re going to pick up your teacup, you have to keep your pinky out,” Aubrey instructed, and Lio copied her movement.

“Thank you for the tea,” Lio told her. There was no tea, it was a silly game, but Lio felt like it was the right thing to say. After all, they were a guest.

Aubrey went to the little desk in the corner of her room that was covered with paper and crayon drawings. She opened the drawer and pulled out a blank paper and some dull crayons. She pushed the plastic tea set onto the floor and gave the drawing tools to Lio. “I want you to color with me.” She issued the command with the authority of someone sharing their prized possession. 

“I will, thank you.” Lio began to draw a picture of Galo with all of care and love that the old artists used when forming what would become famous masterpieces. These, too, were crayon drawings. Galo poked his head in the doorway, and chuckled as he saw Lio stuffed into the tiny chair at the tea party table, drawing what looked like a sad rendition of Sonic the Hedgehog. They sat next to a bear in a princess hat and a Barbie with very little remaining hair, so of course, they looked very out of place. He grinned as he came and sat down on the floor next to them, crossing his long legs to keep them out of Aubrey’s way as she began pulling out what seemed like every coloring book known to man. 

“Is that supposed to be me?” he said, trying to hold in a laugh as he looked at Lio’s paper.

“Yes,” Lio said simply. “I am apparently not very good at art.” That was an understatement. It would have looked more like art if Aubrey had drawn it, and Galo _loved_ it.

“Can I have that when you’re done?” Galo asked hopefully.

Lio looked up at him, baffled. “Sure, why not.” 

“Scoot over. I’m going to draw you, too.” Galo moved the Barbie out of her seat and winced as the tiny chair creaked dangerously beneath his weight. The quality of his artwork was not much better than Lio’s, but they made a fine pair. Lio’s picture of Galo was far too blue and far too round, while Galo’s picture of Lio was basically a drawing of a stick figure with a big yellow mass of hair and a smiley face. They found each other hilarious.

\------------------

Soon, it was time to eat and Ariel had chosen to grace them with her presence. She gave Galo a side hug and gave a little wave to Lio, who waved back awkwardly. They all took their places around the table, Galo pulling out Lio’s chair and beckoning them to sit next to him. Galo’s father surfaced from somewhere in the house, looking disheveled and tired. He hugged his son and waited for Galo to introduce him.

“Dad, this is Lio,” Galo motioned between them and prayed to God that for once, his dad could be a normal human.

“Hi Lio,” Randall said, reaching to shake Lio’s limp hand. “I’m dad.” Lio snorted unattractively while everyone else at the table groaned. Margaret swatted him with an oven mitt and hissed at him to sit down. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Galo with a look that said _I have no idea what is wrong with this man_. 

Plates were passed around and filled with food, and the family chattered idly while catching up about their day. Galo watched Lio’s eyes go wide as their plate was piled high with spaghetti, a food that they had not had the opportunity to try yet. He was sure that he had a stupid look on his face as he smiled, ignoring his own plate in favor of watching Lio experience the joy of his mom’s cooking. When he finally looked up, he noticed that his mother was looking at him over the top of her glasses with a shit eating grin. A few minutes passed by as everyone quietly tucked into their meal.

“So Lio,” Randall began. Galo cringed internally, waiting to see how his father would embarrass him now. “How did you meet my son?” Christ on a crutch, they had not discussed this, and his father was clearly under the impression that they were dating.

Lio slurped up a noodle and wiped their mouth, thankfully, on a napkin and not on the sleeve of their sweater. “Through my work. He came in because he needed some help with a pest issue,” they said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Intriguing,” Randall replied, deadpan. “And what exactly is it that you do for a living?”

“I’m an exterminator.” Well, Galo guessed, that technically wasn’t incorrect. Still, he had not expected Lio to be so smooth. He was rather impressed. Lio stuffed a whole meatball into their mouth and chewed, staring Galo’s dad down like they could do this all day.

“Fascinating. Quite a dirty job, isn’t it? Didn’t really take you for the type.” That comment was followed by several hisses of _Randall_ and _dad_ from various places around the table.

“No dirtier than anyone else’s job,” Lio continued to eat, as if this conversation was totally and completely normal, not weird and uncomfortable at all. “It pays the bills.”

“Galo said you’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately. I’m glad you’re getting along so well,” Randall said, cutting his own food up before taking another bite. “And Galo, how have you been sleeping? Soundly, since you got rid of your pest problem?” Fucking hell, his father had no sense of tact.

Galo choked on a bite of garlic bread, but Lio just looked at him, unphased. “Fine, dad, fine.” 

Randall raised an eyebrow, clearly thrown off by his inability to get a rise out of Lio. He pointed at Lio with his fork. “I like this one. You should keep him.”

“Them,” Margaret corrected softly. 

“Excuse me. You should keep them,” Randall said without missing a beat, punctuating his point again with another flourish of his fork. Galo wished that everyone would just shut up and eat.

“You know, Galo,” his mother interjected, laughing uncomfortably as she tried to change the subject. “When you were a kid, you had an imaginary friend that you called Leo. You used to draw pictures of him, and I think we still have some of them somewhere.” She looked up innocently, as if this were not a very obvious ploy to pull out what few baby pictures remained of Galo, and his awkward childhood.

Galo’s eyebrows furrowed. “Really? I don’t remember that.” 

“Yep,” Margaret replied. “You apparently talked about him all the time, up until you came to live with us.” 

“Huh,” Galo said, surprised that he’d forgotten something apparently so important. “You said you still have the pictures?”

Lio stared blankly at their plate, unseeing. This was unanticipated.

\------------------

The rest of dinner was uneventful and culminated in Margaret pulling out some old photo albums to show off the awkward younger years of Galo’s childhood. He had big buck teeth, a bad haircut, and in some of them, braces. He was the cutest thing that Lio had ever seen. Aubrey seized the opportunity to drag Lio away again, deciding that Lio had not played enough tea party with her, leaving Galo and Margaret alone in the living room. She pulled out a folder that had been stuffed at the back of the cabinet and shuffled through some ancient papers. 

“These came with you from your old school when you first came to stay with us,” she told him. Finally, she retrieved a sheaf of crayon drawings. “Here,” she said, passing Galo a piece of wrinkled construction paper. “Apparently you said that he used to eat your bad dreams and kept you safe. I kept all these drawings because I thought that you’d want to keep them, but you never asked for them.”

On the page, in the center of a ring of jagged pink and teal shapes, was a small figure that stood next to a drawing of what was clearly supposed to be Galo. Black wings stretched out from its sides, bigger than its body and a tail looped behind it. Three small horns rose from its head, the pale white of them in sharp contrast to the dark of its body. Little pink circles marked its eyes, and Galo felt dizzy. In the corner of the page, clearly in a child’s handwriting, there was a name written. The L was backwards, but it clearly said, “LIO”. He folded it up and put it in his pocket.

Shortly after, Galo made excuses about having to work early in the morning. They said their goodbyes, and Margaret hugged and kissed Lio on the cheek before wishing them a good night and safe trip home. The family stood on the porch and waved until the taillights of Galo’s car were no longer visible.

\------------------

Galo felt like his head was going to burst. What the hell was he supposed to make of all of this? It was insane. It was stupid. It couldn’t be real, and yet it was. He swerved a little as he reached into his pocket to pull out the little folded square of paper. He tossed it into Lio’s lap, and said, “Explain this to me.” His tone brooked no argument.

Lio carefully unfolded the paper, looking it over in the spaces of orange light cast by the streetlamps. They took a deep breath and folded it back over as if it were a holy object. “We were young together,” Lio said softly.

“You’re a demon, Lio. How is that even possible?” Galo tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but it still cracked.

“Time treats us differently,” Lio answered. “You used to have bad dreams all the time back then. They called to me, and I fed on them.” They hesitated for a moment but were spurred on by the set of Galo’s jaw. “One of the times I came to feed, you woke up. You were about seven, I think? You saw me. You weren’t supposed to, but you did. You looked at me, and you told me how cool my horns were and asked me if I’d come to save you from the monster in the closet,” Lio said, laughing wetly. “It was the first time anyone had ever looked at me without fear. How could I have said no?”

Galo said nothing for a moment, struggling to feel it, to know it for himself. “Why don’t I remember you?”

“I don’t know,” Lio said sadly. “But I visited you often after that, still eating your bad dreams. You asked me what my name was, and I told you I did not know. To be honest, I didn’t have one.”

Galo felt a faint twinge of recognition, like a song he knew the melody of, but not the lyrics. “I gave you your name, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” came the soft reply. “You gave me my name and asked me to be your friend. I told you that I would be, always.”

“Why did you come back?” Galo could not help but ask.

“I looked for you for a long time after the fire. By the time I found you again, you’d forgotten me. You’d grown older. You couldn’t see me anymore, no matter how I tried to get your attention.” Lio’s hands were clenched against their thighs, as if they were waiting for Galo’s anger. “You were the only friend I ever had, and I swore that I would not forget that promise. Even if you had.”

The rest of the drive continued in silence. There was nothing left to say.

\------------------

When they got back to the apartment, Galo stripped out of his clothes and stayed quiet. His silence was thoughtful and deep. It did not make sense to him, but he could not help but feel it was true. It explained how he felt so at ease around Lio, and how he was not surprised to learn what Lio’s nature was. He brushed his teeth mechanically and climbed into bed. The weight of their conversation was heavy, but he could think about it tomorrow. Lio stood at the edge of the bed, as if unsure if they were still invited. Galo grabbed their hand and pulled them down. They curled against his chest and he leaned his cheek against their hair. 

They lay still together, moving only with the rise and fall of Galo’s breathing. At last, Galo decided what he wanted to say, and he was certain that it was the truth. He whispered into the dark, “I’m glad you found me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we be pining


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But if there was one thing that Galo should have known, it was that peaceful moments never last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to include a few trigger warnings for this chapter, so please read the updated tags and check out the end for a detailed explanation of the TW for this chapter. 
> 
> \- cap

Morning brought with it a specific kind of clarity. The sunlight splintered as it passed through the blinds, casting Lio’s sleeping form in a warm glow. Galo could not help but look at them, watching as the rhythm of their breathing caused the tiny black scales that littered their collar bones to glint like precious stones. In its own strange way, it made a few puzzle pieces slot into place. Lio had brought him so many things, had done so much for him in a way that surely went against the nature of what they were. Nothing bound them to Galo, they owed him nothing, but the power of the promise that they had made was binding. Above all, Galo knew that he was important to Lio, that he _mattered_. It was an overwhelming thought, to know that someone would go against the laws of the universe on his behalf. He had not thought that a demon could be capable of such softness. Lio stirred in their sleep next to him, snuffling and shifting closer toward Galo as they sought warmth. Their leg was thrown over Galo’s narrow hips and their tail slithered around his leg to wrap tight around his ankle, as if it were a lifeline. 

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed touch, how much he needed it. Lio filled a gap in his life that he hadn’t known was there. Galo soaked in the feeling of that small body pressed tight against him. Maybe, he could actually have this. Didn’t he deserve happiness? Isn’t that what people always told him? He finally felt like he had a chance at peace, and he wanted to seize it. He lay awake a while longer, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the soft breaths of the demon that slept in his bed. Instead of dreading the moment that he would be forced to get up and break the spell, he instead savored the bittersweet taste of a rare moment of certainty. Maybe he could have this. When the morning was well underway and the sunlight could no longer be ignored, Galo slipped quietly out of Lio’s hold. He went reluctantly, but it was time to get ready for work. He smiled to himself as he started the coffee maker, knowing that the smell and the sound of it would soon wake Lio, too. He set about making pancakes as the lump beneath the covers began to stir and smiled when a horned head popped up from under the covers. They squinted at him, still sleepy and annoyed at him for leaving.

“Good morning,” Galo called from the kitchenette. “Want coffee?” Lio grunted in response and disappeared back into the blankets for a moment before resurfacing at the foot of the bed and an oversized t-shirt. They clambered down to join Galo in the kitchen, clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs. Galo swallowed hard. He should be used to it by now, it had been over a month since Lio had come, but still it affected him. They took the mug and held it between their hands as steam curled up from it. 

“When will you be home?” they asked after they’d drunk half the cup.

“Shift ends at eight. I’ll see you tonight?” Galo asked as he threw together some leftovers for a lunch. 

“Pizza?” Lio asked, hopeful as always when it came to the promise of food.

“Sure thing, pal.” 

The day was easy and slow, and they spent the night as they often did. Galo played a video game while Lio watched and asked questions about the convoluted plot or pointed out items and enemies that he’d missed. They ate pizza from grease-stained paper plates, and when Galo finally admitted that he was tired, Lio pushed and shoved at him like a flustered mother hen until he laid down on his side. Lio settled down behind him and pulled the covers over them both. Galo sighed deeply and peacefully, allowing sleep to wash over him. But if there was one thing that Galo should have known, it was that peaceful moments never last. 

\------------------

Galo smelled the smoke before he saw it, eyes going wide with the terror that the fire always brought. He was laying on his back, wrapped up tight in the sheets, tucked in snug and he was alone. Sweat began to bead on his face, and soon it was rolling down his temple and pooling in the cupid’s bow of his lips. The heat was stifling, but this time it seemed somehow worse. The nightmare had evolved again, like it was a living thing that could grow and change, could adapt to its environment. The ugly black smoke began to slither in from the crack beneath the door, from an air vent, and from the windowsill. It stank of fear and burning hair, just like Galo remembered it. Sometimes when he woke up, he could taste that smell in the back of his throat and he’d gag, vomiting up watery bile until it passed. The glow in the dark stars that freckled the ceiling grew dim. Wait, did he even have those when he lived in the old house? No, that wasn’t right. His ma had helped him put them up when he was thirteen, telling him that maybe if he counted stars, then he could fall asleep and have sweet dreams. His eyes became unfocused as the roiling smoke began to blot out the little plastic constellations. The faint green glow of them began to soften as they melted with the heat, and Galo watched them blink out as if they were real dying stars, snuffed out in the vacuum of space. 

Soon, the soot had swallowed them whole. Galo tried to sit up, knowing that it was futile before he even tried. He was held fast, watching as the smoke that crawled in through the ceiling vent began to squirm. The sound of a thousand tiny scuttling legs clicking across the plaster made his stomach lurch. The swarm bled out across the wall like pus from a gangrenous wound, innumerable vermin spilling out in a slow-churning wave. Galo whimpered and tried to blink away hot frustrated tears as they began their slow descent toward where he lay still locked inside his own body. The shapes lost their form when Galo tried to focus on them, becoming formless blurs as they moved into his eye line. In his periphery, they moved as one being and yet they were legion: a creeping, writhing mass of roaches, ticks, and spiders. Among them, fat drooling rats ran amok, followed by millions of stinging, biting flies. He knew what they would do when they finally finished their tortuous approach. They would land on his open eyes and he would hear their legs clicking inside his head as they crawled into his ears. The rats would make a meal of him, chewing their way into the soft flesh of his belly and eating their fill. The insects would worm their way into his mouth. He would choke on them as they forced their bulbous, overfed bodies into his nose and throat. He wished he could scream, but he was trapped. With they finally came for him, he would not be able to swat them away when they bit and stung him beneath the sheets. Tears ran openly down his cheeks, and if he could move, he would have been shaking. His chest was so tight that it ached. He felt dirty, the sensation of the vermin’s filth and his overwhelming feeling of violation heavy on his skin. Of all the monsters he’d met, this was the one he feared the most. 

His hands felt clammy and hot where they lay useless at his sides. His breath started to come faster and shallower as the edge of the wave began to peak, the fastest among them nearly at the edge of the bed as they climbed down, using the textured plaster for purchase. Some of them slipped, their pointed legs skittering against the smoother parts, and fell. They popped against the floor, the impact crushing them with the ease of overripe fruit. The shadow that formed them splattered against the sheets, crusting the fabric with oily gray stains and leaving behind an unbearable stench as their guts spilled. A particularly large rat, its body laden with open sores and heavy abscessed tumorous growths that dragged the ground as it walked, lost its footing. It fell hard and landed with a dull, wet thump against Galo’s prone belly. Its head lolled to the side at an angle that would have spelled internal decapitation for a normal rat, but instead it continued to drag its broken, diseased body toward Galo’s face. Galo choked on a sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Galo,” came a voice, low and calm, cutting through the din of Galo’s fear. “Invite me in.” Galo gasped for breath and thought the invitation as loud as he could.

It was not explosive this time, when Lio came to him. The door swung open slowly, creaking as if it had not been touched by the fire at all. The flames themselves quelled and shrank away from the blackened frame and the color of the fire itself shifted, casting dancing flickers of pink and teal along the ceiling and walls. Galo shivered as a chill ran through him at the sound of the slow, heavy footsteps. Lio towered over him, a statue carved from cold fury. Their gait was menacing and purposeful as they approached, horns nearly brushing the ceiling. The vermin froze in their movements, and began to accumulate, to coagulate into fewer but larger beings, each uglier and more grotesque than the sum of their component parts.

 _You honor me, lord,_ a new voice sounded in the scorching heat of the room. _How sweet that you’ve come all this way to see me_. No, it was not a sound as Galo understood it. It was a thought, projected directly to those nearby. It echoed in his skull as if he’d stuck his head between a pair of crashing cymbals. The presence of an internal voice other than his own rang against his senses like the scratching of cutlery against a plate. It set his teeth on edge in its wrongness.

“If you harm him, I will make you regret it.” It was the coldest that Galo had ever heard Lio sound, as if their rage were a canyon that had no bottom. 

_I see. How lucky you are to have found yourself a nice little pet._ The voice took on a sickening croon as it reached for Galo. A smoky claw neatly and effortlessly ripped the blanket in two, exposing Galo’s skin where he lay beneath it. _Oh, and such a pretty one, too_ , it cooed in his ear as it leaned over him. Its breath was humid and stinking where it flooded over Galo’s face as its numerous jaws hung open. Its many tongues rolled out, as if they were going to dip into his own mouth. It ran that same clawed finger down his now bare chest, leaving a thin line of blood behind it as it lacerated the exposed flesh. _A human as lovely as it is useful? What a fortuitous find!_

Lio’s form pulsed with furiously shifting color, the flickering of the lights beneath their skin frenetic and manic as their wings unfurled behind them. Their long legs tensed as their muscles coiled and the sickle-sharp claws that extended from their feet dug into the floor. “If you touch him again, I will rend you limb from limb. I will not warn you again.” Galo had not thought it possible for that voice to be chilled any further, but he was wrong. His stomach reeled with nausea. His eyes burned from the smoke and the vermin still sat heavy and slimy against his chest. 

_Don’t be greedy now, let me have a little bite._ The sickly sweet, mocking tone made Galo certain that if he could move, he would have vomited. _Just a little taste! You can’t keep such a treat all to yourself._ It dipped the tip of its claw into the blood that had spilled from the cut on Galo’s chest, and its many tongues snaked out to lick it off. Its hundreds of white, empty eyes slipped shut in concerted bliss as it relished its prize.

Lio moved faster than Galo’s eyes could track, wrenching the largest monster from him where it lay. They seized it in one great clawed hand, spearing it bodily with their talons. The creature screamed in a thousand voices as its other forms merged with the central one that Lio held, and its hideous voices dug into Galo’s eardrums like an ice pick. With their free hand, Lio reached out delicately and gripped firmly at the upper portion of its arm. They meticulously twisted and pulled back and forth at the captured limb while the creature howled in their grip. Its sounds of excruciating pain were accompanied by a chorus of the sickening cracks that come with the tearing of tendons and the spiral fracturing of bone. It felt like it dragged on for hours, but Lio did not stop. They continued their horrible task, working at it like a child twisting the stem from an apple, until the limb came free with a visceral crunching sound. 

“How many more will come?” Lio demanded, low and cruel as the creature continued to thrash and wail. “Shut up,” Lio spat in annoyance, driving the brutal hook of their claw into the ruined socket. Shadows spilled from it and spattered the floor, leaving more dark, oily stains behind. The creamy white of Lio’s face was misted with it, but their cold pale eyes never left the body of the creature that they held. “Tell me, how many more will come?”

The creature did naught but bare its teeth to hiss and spit curses, its stringy spit splattering against Lio’s cheek. Taking that for an answer, Lio began to methodically wrench at another limb. They did it with such detachment and disinterest, like they were ripping the limbs from a doll they no longer cared for. Their skin still flickered with those furious sparks that danced with the natural fire raging beneath their skin, casting their violent work in beautiful pink and teal hues. It made Galo feel dizzy, like he might pass out when he saw Lio’s face. The pale cream-colored scales of their chest were painted liberally with the carnage they had wrought, and they were no longer beautiful. The same splintering sounds and agonized cries raged in Galo’s ears, until the next limb joined its brother in a mutilated heap on the floor. The blood curdling screams pierced Galo’s brain like someone had split his skull open with a hatchet, and he curled into the fetal position on his side. He could not stop himself from crying. 

“This is a waste of time,” Lio said dully, as if bored by the whole thing. “I should just swallow you and be done with it.”

 _Please, let me go. Let me go, and you will never see me again!_ The creature groveled, its remaining hand clutching at the raw gore of its ruined muscles and empty holes that had once housed its limbs. _I am a lowly worm, I’m nothing, great one! Spare me, and I will owe you a debt! Please, have mercy, as you have shown to many before me!_

Lio looked at the monster and then to Galo, whose body was wracked with deep, gut-wrenching sobs. Galo screwed his eyes shut, unable to look at them. Their face was stone as they stared callously down at the creature, this wretched broken thing, that had just begged for Lio to spare its life and show it mercy. Lio’s lip twitched up from their teeth in an ugly sneer as they said, “No.”

The second Lio said it, Galo scrambled back into the corner and tried to hide his face, but he was too slow. He saw every horrific detail, and every minute movement of Lio’s hands as the creature’s head was wrested from its shattered body was burned into his brain forever. It was dead before it hit the ground, and Lio’s face was wild as their lips curled in a vicious snarl and thick saliva dripped from their open mouth. 

This was not the Lio that he shared his bed with every night, the Lio who thought that hot sauce was a proper substitute for toothpaste, who stole Galo’s clothes and loved watching Food Network. This was not the Lio that he knew. There was no softness left in them, only frenzied rage. This was the truth of Lio: they were a demon, as they had always been. Galo had not known what that truly meant until he was forced to behold them, towering over him with their horns scraping the ceiling. Their wings flapped hard, buffeting him with smoke and wind where he tried to cower away. They kept approaching, even as Galo tried to hide from them. Their too many teeth were jagged and sharp, and for the first time, Galo saw them as they were: a monster.

\------------------

Galo sucked in air like he’d been starving for it, and he was out of the bed and in the kitchen before he’d even realized that he’d run. His nightmares did that to him sometimes. All of the pent-up movement that he’d held onto in the dream came rushing out when he woke, leading him to flee. His heart was pounding, and he was sweating as he stood at the sink and shook apart. He turned on the faucet and began to splash water on his face, breathing hard and fast as the adrenaline and fear began to work their way out of his system. From the corner of his eye, he saw a cup of water slide toward him across the laminate. He downed the whole thing in one long swallow.

Lio stood across the apartment, pressed to the far wall as if they wished they could melt into it. They stood far away from Galo and did not meet his eyes as he looked them over. They had taken on their most human form, clearly putting in effort to be non-threatening and small. They looked ashamed. 

“Have I made you afraid of me?” Lio asked, their voice so low and soft that the question barely audible. They looked at the ground, unable to meet his eye.

A laugh burbled form Galo’s lips, a manic, pained sound. “How could I not be afraid of you? Do you know what you looked like just now? You looked like a, like a…”

“A demon?” Lio supplied with a wry smile, still looking at the carpet. 

“You looked like a monster. Like one of _them_ ,” Galo whispered. Lio’s face fell.

“It hurt you, Galo. I couldn’t just let it get away with it.” Lio ‘s voice cracked with emotion, and their fingers kept twitching like they wanted to reach out toward him even from all the way across the room. Galo flinched away even at the thought. He just couldn’t stomach being touched by the same delicate hands that had ripped a creature apart with such ruthless indifference and savagery.

“I… I need time to think,” Galo said, swallowing dryly as he stared into the bowl of the sink. “I think you should… Go. Um, away for a while.” His eyes were unfocused. His stomach felt like it was trying to jump out of his mouth, and he couldn’t settle down. Lio gasped and looked stricken as they said nothing, just nodded their head slowly. They walked to the apartment door and turned the deadbolt. Lio stood there in the door, looking so small and fragile in Galo’s t-shirt and old track shorts that it made Galo’s heart hurt. They hesitated for a moment and looked back at Galo, but he kept staring into the sink where the water still ran, spiraling away with his thoughts down the drain. Lio’s breath hitched as they closed the door behind them. Galo briefly wondered if he had made a mistake, but they were already gone, walking barefoot into the early morning dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: gore, violence, torture, musophobia, entomophobia
> 
> In this chapter, Galo has a nightmare in which he encounters a demon composed of a wide variety of different types of vermin (roaches, bugs, rats, etc). Lio intervenes, but loses their cool when the demon hurts Galo. They torture it to death and rip off several of its limbs while it begs for mercy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just so I make myself perfectly clear: don’t you dare leave me. I’d never forgive you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to write. Thank you again for all the kudos and comments, they fuel my burning gay soul.
> 
> \- cap

Streetlights cast an amber glow over Lio as they moved on autopilot. After Galo had told them to leave, they’d realized that they had nowhere else to go. They had simply started walking and kept going until the pull on their heart became too much, the pull that said they’d been too far away from Galo for too long. It ached with all of the realness of a flesh wound, and they almost wished that it was a physical injury. That would have been easier to handle than whatever this emotional maelstrom was. Did humans feel like this all the time? It felt like dying piece by piece. Their feet were bleeding and sore when they finally sat down heavily on an empty park bench. Distantly, they realized that they were shivering as the breeze filtered across the pond. They had never had to deal with cold before, and it cut through their thin clothes and chilled their skin. Would they ever get to share Galo’s warmth again? Would they ever be allowed to lie next to him, to be close again? It hurt to even think about it. To think that Galo feared them was the worst punishment they could imagine, but to be dismissed by Galo entirely? That would be death for Lio.

Lio had come to understand that the feelings that they carried for Galo were most easily summarized as love. It would be foolish to call it anything else in the privacy of their own thoughts, even if Galo did not return those feelings. Lio was content just to be near him and could live with the lack of reciprocation as long as they were allowed to exist in Galo’s orbit. Still, Lio had minimal experience with emotion in general and did not understand that love was a suite of many different and sometimes conflicting emotions that did not always make sense. Along with their love had come dark, ugly feelings of possessiveness and jealousy. Galo was _theirs_ , had always been theirs, and they would not let anyone or anything do him harm. Lio had spent their years either searching for him or protecting him, and the threads of control that held on to their power had come undone upon seeing Galo wounded. All their repressed rage had spilled out in a deluge of brutality and bloodshed. The look of fear on Galo’s face was something that Lio would never forget. It would hang off of their heart like a scar. Worse yet, upon seeing the truth of what they were, Galo had sent them away. Would he ever want to see Lio again? Alone with these thoughts, they stayed there on the bench, invisible to the people that started to stroll by. Soon, the sun slowly crept up into the sky, but the cold did not fade. Their wings wrapped tight around their body and they sat still and silent for a long, long time. 

\------------------

Meanwhile, Galo spent the day in a haze. He dragged his sorry carcass to work and planned to keep his head down and finish his shift by forcing himself to act like nothing was wrong. The place on his chest where the creature had cut him ached, and it annoyed him. He tried to keep busy, never standing still too long but of course this made him look even more agitated and hyperactive than normal. He did his best to project an air of ‘do not talk to me, I am angry’, as he did not want to talk about it at all. He eventually ran out of things to pretend to be doing and sat down in the break room to have a snack. Even if someone asked, how could he possibly explain what was bothering him? But of course, if you speak of the devil, the devil, in the form of Aina Ardebit, shall appear to relentlessly harass you about your problems.

By the fifth time Galo had heaved a gusty, sulky sigh and spewed granola bar crumbs on the table, Aina decided she’d had enough. “Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, looking at him with vague disgust and exasperation. “You look like you haven’t slept, your hair is an absolute rat’s nest, and your face is all…” Galo winced at the thought of rats as she motioned at his entire face. “Miserable. It’s bumming me out.”

“Leave me alone, Aina,” Galo retorted moodily. She was not wrong on any of the counts she had mentioned, and that was what pissed him off. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, tough shit. Your mood affects how you work, Galo, and how you work affects your whole team. If you’re this mentally checked out, we can’t let you go out on a call. You could get yourself or someone else hurt.” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out, daring him to disagree. Once again, she was right. 

“Fuck, Aina, come on!” He threw his hands up in the air and started tugging at his hair. “Can you just get off my dick today? Jesus!” 

“I am _not_ impressed with your attitude, Galo,” Remi reprimanded, chastising Galo from his usual spot on the sofa. “Don’t treat the people that care about you like shit because you’re having personal problems. That’s not fair and you know it.”

Aina stood there, hip cocked to one side as she tapped her foot expectantly. She raised an eyebrow in challenge when he tried to pout his way out of the apology he knew she deserved. Finally, his guilt won out over his pride and he relented, deflating slightly and mumbling, “I’m sorry for lashing out at you, Aina. Remi is right, it wasn’t fair of me to do that.”

“I’ll forgive you, but on one condition,” she said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.” Galo sighed and went to flop down on the couch. Remi gave a disgruntled grumble at being squashed into the corner but did not complain further. 

Galo thought for a long moment about how to even approach this subject. “Okay, so… Hypothetical situation. Or uh, I’m asking for a friend, okay?”

“Okay…” Aina said slowly, uncertain as to where this was going. He’d even gotten Remi’s attention, even though the other man was pretending to continue working on paperwork while eavesdropping.

“Say that, um, my friend was at this like, bar or something with their partner,” Galo began, stumbling over his explanation. He knew that this was not even close to the exact scenario, but it was the closest thing that he could think of on the fly. “Okay, so they’re leaving the bar, and a stranger attacked them in the alley. The stranger was really trying to hurt my friend, and maybe even kill them. Their partner stepped in to protect them, but absolutely flew off the handle and beat the bad guy to a pulp. Like, _extremely_ to a pulp. We’re talking way overkill levels of pulp.” Galo felt like he was losing the metaphor here, but he pressed on. He ran his fingers through his hair and damn, Aina was right. It was greasy as hell. “Their partner is normally super sweet and has never treated my friend with anything less than respect, but after seeing that… Is my friend wrong for, um, being scared of their partner now?”

Aina hummed in acknowledgement to show that she had heard him but took a moment to think about it. “Well, so in this totally made up and hypothetical scenario, they were in danger, right? The stranger physically hurt them?” 

Galo frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, that’s what uh… my friend said.”

“And their partner, hypothetically of course, intervened to save them from somebody who wanted to hurt them. Do you think that maybe it was that they saw you- your friend, I mean, being hurt and kind of just… snapped? I’m not saying that violence is the right answer or acceptable, but I’m thinking that if it were me, I’d probably lose it too if I saw my partner being hurt.”

“Huh,” Galo said. He hadn’t even thought about it from Lio’s perspective. What must it have looked like to see Galo like that, in pain, terrified out of his mind, and helpless? Galo had only considered his own feelings, his own fear. He did not think that he was wrong for being upset and disturbed by Lio’s behavior, but he could also understand, perhaps, why they had behaved the way they did.

“If it were me in this very hypothetical scenario,” Remi interjected without looking up from his clipboard. Galo jolted a little, having forgotten he was there. “I think that I would best work through those emotions by actually talking to my partner about how I was feeling. You said it’s not like they go around hurting random people or that they treat you badly. It really seems like it might have been a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

“Remi is right, I think the best thing to do would be to talk to them. That’s a conversation that would be best had when you’re calm and better rested, though.” Aina suggested. “Still, I can see how it would be scary to see your partner become capable of violence like that. I don’t think there’s a simple answer.”

“Here’s some advice,” Remi said sagely, clearly having given up any pretense of pretending not to be eavesdropping. “If you’ve had a fight with your partner, you must do two things. One,” he said, holding up a finger and then two. “Bring home pizza, and two, do _not_ say the words ‘we need to talk’.”

“Aww Remi, you do care about my feelings!” Galo cooed, flopping over onto Remi to give him a crushing hug. Remi smacked him in the forehead with the clipboard.

\------------------

Galo stopped by his and Lio’s favorite pizza place on his way home from his shift, which had run longer than he intended. He ordered one pie just for himself, and one for Lio with all their favorite gross toppings. He would forever stand by the opinion that pineapple on pizza was a crime, but Lio, known perpetrator of heinous food crimes, loved it. He had subconsciously smiled while thinking of Lio, and that made him sad. This was the longest he’d gone without seeing them in months. By the time the pizza was ready, he was anxious and beyond hungry. On the long walk home, he took a mental inventory. He realized that truthfully, he was not scared of Lio as a person. He was scared of what they were capable of, scared of their intensity, when it came to him. There are no rule books for this scenario. It wasn’t like he could just google it and he _definitely_ was not asking a priest for help. 

He thought back over the advice he’d been given and realized that even when he’d gone to leave for work, he had been half-hoping that Lio would be sitting outside the door. He’d been disappointed to find that they were well and truly gone. When he arrived home, he balanced his cargo in one hand while handling his keys in the other. Lio was not waiting outside then, either. He called out to Lio as he entered the apartment but found the interior empty and all the lights were off. He called Lio’s name again, but it went unanswered in the stale air of the studio. When he set down his belongings and the pizza, it dawned on him that he had no way to find Lio. There was no way to contact them if he needed them, because demons did not carry cell phones. Or beepers? Were beepers even a thing anymore? Instead of letting his mind wander off on that tangent, he sat down hard in the recliner and put his face in his hands. It was too empty, too quiet in there with only his thoughts for company. He let himself wallow in self-pity for exactly thirty seconds, then got up and resolved to walk until he found his demon.

\------------------

He spent several long hours fruitlessly searching their complex and neighborhood, but no one he asked had seen hide nor hair of Lio. When had he come to think of it as their complex? As their apartment? Still, the time had passed with no luck and the sun had set. Galo was starting to contemplate the logistics of calling the police and filing a missing persons report for a demon until he happened upon a park that he had heard of but had never visited. Truthfully, it was not all that far from the apartment complex, but he rarely had free time that he elected to spend not laying around at home. The entrance gates were lit by the sallow glow of streetlights, and the gravel walkway crunched beneath his sneakers as he wound his way along the trail. He rubbed his arms through his jacket sleeves as the cold began to seep into his bones. He had started sniffling and his nose was runny, but he would not give up.

“Lio?” Galo called out into the dark. “Lio, are you here?” He was met with disappointing silence, but for the chirping of crickets and the wind rustling through the trees. He bit his lip and tried again. “Lio? If you’re here, please answer me, I’ve been looking for you for hours!” Up ahead on a bench, a figure faded into view as if materializing from the dark itself. There was Lio, unmoved from where they had sat early that morning. Their wings were still wrapped around their body as they sat with their knees tucked into their chest. Galo sighed in relief and approached, but it did not help his heavy heart when he saw deep circles etched below those luminous pink eyes.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time, with the same regretful tone. Galo sat next to them, feet aching from how far he had walked.

Lio held up a hand indicating that they wished to speak first. Their long claws retracted into elegantly shaped fingernails as they completed the gesture. “I’m sorry for what I made you witness and that I made you afraid of me,” they murmured, staring straight ahead. “I lost myself when I saw it lay a hand on you. I can’t say that I regret killing it, but I regret that I made you see me that way.” They plucked at the point of their tail nervously, and it twitched as if to smack their fingers away. “It seems that I don’t exercise the most rational judgment when it comes to you.”

“Why did you go to such an extreme, though?” Galo asked, hoping that Lio would understand what he was trying to say.

“Galo, there is nothing that I care about more than you and keeping you safe. For you, there is no extreme I would not go to.” Lio said this as if it should have been incredibly obvious, as if Galo had asked if the sky was blue.

“I know you were trying to protect me,” Galo said softly, looking closely at his own hands. “But when you were like that… Your face was so different. You were so cold and cruel that it felt like I didn’t know you. After a while, I realized that I wasn’t scared that you would hurt me. I was scared that you would stay that way, that you wouldn’t change back. That the you I’ve come to know was gone. Forever.” That was more truth than he’d meant to share but fuck it. There it was, and he could not take the words back.

“I hope you know that I would never, ever hurt you. When that thing cut you, I wanted to destroy it. I hated that it put its filthy hands on…” _What belongs to me_ , remained unsaid. Lio cleared their throat and nervously tucked their hair behind their ear. “I would sooner die than hurt you, but I understand that you want me to go.” 

“What?” Galo asked incredulously. “Did you even hear what I said?” Galo was livid. Lio would not meet his eye.

“You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll be gone come morning.” Lio responded, eyes dull as they spoke mechanically.

“You can’t just barge into my life and carve out a place for yourself and then just _leave_ like it didn’t matter! Who the hell do you think you are?!” The dam of Galo’s emotions had broken, and there was no putting it back. Everything would come pouring out until everything he’d held back was drained. “You’ve lived in my home and shared my bed for _months_ , and you think that you can just take off like that? You think I’d just _let_ you go?” Lio tried to hide their face but Galo grabbed them by the chin and stared at them hard. Lio just stared back at him like a deer in the headlights that welcomed the impact. “Just so I make myself perfectly clear: don’t you dare leave me. I’d never forgive you.” 

Lio ducked their head and nodded, hiding a small smile. Galo still held their chin, and they looked back up at him. Their eyes met, looking at each other as if they were each daring the other to move first. Galo’s hand slid to Lio’s cheek, and the demon leaned into the touch. His thumb traced over the curve of their plush lower lip, feeling the light touch of Lio’s tongue as they licked their lips. Lio’s eyes burned with intensity and they drew in a shuddering breath as Galo leaned in. When their lips met, it was soft and sweet. The kiss itself was careful and drawn out, the slow burn of embers that had been kept alive by sheer force of will. 

“Why did you do that?” Lio asked, voice low and rough. At some point, their tail had come up to coil tightly around the wrist of the hand that still held their face. 

“Because I was thinking that I wished I’d done it sooner,” Galo answered, and he thought he might go blind from how bright Lio had lit up, the little pinpricks of colored sparks trailed after his touch like the tail of a comet. He could see them even with his eyes closed. Lio attacked him with clumsy eagerness, fisting their hands in his hair as they sought to deepen the kiss. Galo’s hands were spanned across Lio’s narrow waist, running up the arches of their ribcage to rest in the divots between. He traced the seam of Lio’s mouth with his tongue, which was met with a soft, pleased little sound. Galo gasped in surprise when the demon copied the gesture with their own forked tongue. The sharp points of their teeth bit into his lip as they got carried away and nipped him. Something about that enthusiasm sent a thrill down Galo’s spine, and he needed to touch them more. When Galo finally broke the kiss, Lio chased him, pressing their forehead to his and fisting their hand in his shirt. He laughed softly and pressed a chaste kiss to their cheek, laughing at the shower of sparks. 

“Are you going to do that every time?” he asked, feeling just a little smug.

“I can’t control it,” Lio shrugged and smiled against Galo’s grinning mouth. “It’s just something that happens when I’m happy.”

“Let’s go home,” Galo said softly, and offered Lio his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their voice was deep and sultry, full of promises that had yet to be fulfilled as they murmured against his mouth, “Do you want me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> porn? y'all like porn, right? anyway, rating change for this chapter and I've updated the tags too.  
> I estimate that, according to my outline, there are three more chapters and an epilogue remaining.
> 
> Your comments and kudos give me life and water my crops, my family will survive the winter thanks to this bountiful harvest.
> 
> \- cap

They’d barely made it through the door before Lio was on him, nails leaving red lines down his back as they tried to pull him down for a sloppy kiss. Groaning, Galo roughly pressed them back against the wall, causing their teeth to click together with the force. He apologized for forgetting his strength by lifting them, manhandling their lithe legs to wrap around his waist. He groped at their narrow hips, digging his fingers into the meat of Lio’s ass as he rolled his hips against theirs. His brain was a static mess, his only thoughts were of Lio and of chasing the relief that he’d been seeking for months. His hands groped at their narrow hips as Lio’s arms looped around his neck and they sighed as Galo claimed their mouth again. The kisses were no longer sweet, tinged with demanding need, the kind of manic desperation that came with being made to wait. Lio snarled as they bit his lower lip, the kiss tasting of iron as their sharp teeth drew blood. The forked tip of their tongue darted out to lick the droplet away before sucking it into their mouth, pulling a gasp from Galo. They seized the opportunity to claim him, darting their tongue between his parted lips and tracing it along the back of his teeth. Galo pursued them in turn, licking into their mouth to draw breathy little sounds out of Lio, who squirmed in his solid grip. Beneath his palms, he felt the shifting of muscle beneath skin as they moved their hips against him in a slow and dirty grind. They were hard and wanted Galo to know it, shamelessly rubbing off against his belly as they sought their own pleasure. He yanked sharply at the fabric of their shirt, manhandling them further to pull the material up until it came free. He pressed them back against the wall for a moment to give them leverage while he whipped his own shirt off over his head. 

Lio was quickly losing control over their magic, shifting across their spectrum of forms from human to demon, and anywhere in between. Constellations of smooth, glossy scales surfaced beneath Galo’s hands where they spread over Lio’s ribs, glittering where they caught the light. Their tail wrapped around the column of his throat, applying gentle pressure in a way that he had not known he liked. It was a heady feeling, to trust Lio like this. It was a kind of vulnerability that he had not known he could give. He wrapped his hand around the body of an opalescent horn, using it to force Lio’s head back at an angle as a filthy moan ripped from their chest. He did not let go, forcing them to be still and submit to it as he sucked a blooming red mark against the pale skin of their neck. Lio shivered against him as he nipped at the curve of their jaw with his teeth, their skin flashing like lightning with ricocheting teal and pink fireworks. Their sparks flickered so fast that they began to blend, fading into mixed purples and reds. Galo had the strangest impulse to devour those scintillating colors, causing Lio to cry out when he bit down hard over the slight curve of their pectoral. The scales felt odd as they ground against his teeth, but fuck, he had never wanted anything the way that he wanted Lio. They leaned close, barely touching their lips to Galo’s. 

Their voice was deep and sultry, full of promises that had yet to be fulfilled as they murmured against his mouth, “Do you want me?” 

The heat of their skin against Galo’s own was searing, and Galo thought he was going to melt. “God, yes,” he rasped, trying to kiss them and whining when their fist tightened in his hair, keeping him at a teasing distance. 

So tantalizingly close, yet just out of reach, they smiled as they looked up through their eyelashes. “Then have me.”

Hell, they didn’t have to tell Galo twice. Unable to wait any longer, he carried them to bed and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. Despite his eagerness, he laid Lio down on the sheets as if they were made of glass. Lio hummed softly as big warm hands stroked up their ribs and over the soft skin of their belly. Galo leaned in, dropping featherlight kisses over their chest and down, down, down. Lio whined as their fingers tangled tight in his hair, tugging hard at the roots when he dipped his tongue into their navel. They gasped and groaned when he nibbled at the sharp points of their hips. The trails of fireworks lit up again, blossoming beneath every inch of skin that Galo kissed. He laved his tongue over one nipple while he plucked at the other with his fingers. That same frantic feeling had started to build again, his touches becoming more firm and rougher until Lio was well and truly writhing beneath him. They wanted more, they demanded more, but he chuckled when they snapped at him in frustration with those pointed teeth. Finally, only when he’d had enough of drawing it out and torturing Lio this way, he let his hands fall to the waistband of their shorts. The front was tented with Lio’s obvious arousal, but he still looked up to ask for permission. Lio granted it, nodding their head frantically as their tail lashed at his thigh where he sat between their spread knees. They looked ruined already, lower lip kiss-bitten and swollen red as they panted and gazed at him with dark eyes. They were beautiful, a forgotten masterpiece made by an artist in love with their subject. It was unfair that a demon could be so lovely.

He quickly worked them out of their remaining clothes and bent close, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses against the flesh of Lio’s inner thighs. He mouthed at the crease of their hip, causing them to rock up into the sensation. Galo desperately wanted to explore, taking in the sight of Lio laid out for him alone his breath ghosted over their skin. Their cock jutted up proudly, leaking as clear fluid beaded at the tip. It was thick but not overly long and the head was tapered to a point instead of blunt and rounded like his own. The shaft had wide, overlapping scale-like ridges that rippled across the underside, and was broad and rounded at the base. He ran a curious finger up the underside, and Lio’s skin flared like he’d set them alight. They shuddered and their tail tried to lash but it thumped against Galo’s leg. He took them in hand in a loose hold, stroking only to tease. He leaned down to lick at the pointed tip just to see what noises he could pull from Lio and was satisfied when they whimpered. He licked a wide, wet stripe on the underside of the head, and Lio whined high in their throat as Galo finally took them into his mouth. Lio’s fingers carefully cradled his skull and they sighed in pleasure as Galo started to work up a rhythm. He was a bit uncoordinated, as he did not have a lot of practice in this act, but Lio clearly did not give a fuck. Their eyes were narrow slits, closed in bliss as they murmured little reassurances and kept telling Galo how wonderful he was, how beautiful he was. Galo would never be able to take them all the way in, but he still savored the sounds Lio made as he worked them over. Soon, Lio’s fingers tightened in his hair, their fingernails digging into his scalp as they tried to pull him off. 

“I’ll come if you don’t stop,” they warned as he gasped for breath.

“Want you to,” he rasped, and he meant it. “Want to see you fall apart. Give it to me.” He stroked them fast and firm, feeling the base of their cock thicken impossibly more as they chanted his name. “Come for me, Lio,” he said, and their body snapped taut as they did. They spilled across their belly with a low grunt, some of their spend catching Galo’s chin as they came. The sparks they carried ignited, setting their entire body aflame in a wash of dancing colors. The light show slowly faded as they came back to themself. 

“I’ve made a mess of you, haven’t I?” Lio said, taking Galo’s face in their hands to pull him closer.

“Guess you’ll just have to clean it up,” Galo murmured. He was aiming for cool, but it came across as breathless as Lio leaned in and licked their come from his face in slow deliberate strokes. The fork of their tongue traced the outline of their wicked little teeth as they tugged him forward, bucking their hips as their legs came up to wrap around his waist. In a single smooth motion, toned thighs squeezing him and flipping him to lie beneath them. They straddled him effortlessly and rocked back against his still clothed cock, rolling their hips to grind their ass in his lap. They smirked, looking very pleased with themself as Galo hissed and rutted against them in turn. They looked so good, perched atop him like he was a pedestal and they were there to be worshipped. Their pace was cruelly slow, deliberate and calculated, the perfect pace for making Galo gasp and moan beneath them. Lio’s pale skin and messy hair made them look soft and sweet when there, haloed in lamp light, but beneath that sweetness? There was a starving, ravenous thing that fed off of driving Galo insane. They were putting on a show for his benefit, giving him a preview of what still lay ahead, of something he could see but not touch today, and Christ, he wanted it. He wanted to let Lio take him apart, break him down into a million, billion little pieces. He wanted to sink into Lio, and let them consume him, let them burn him up and swallow the ashes. He wanted Lio so much, he would die from it.

“Want to touch you,” Lio growled, low and hungry as their eyes roamed over the miles and miles of tan skin laid out beneath them like a feast. They raked their nails down Galo’s chest, leaving goosebumps and red trails in their wake. “Can I?”

“You don’t need to ask,” Galo answered, voice rough with wanting. Lio smiled like they were going to eat him alive. They were not as kind to Galo’s clothing as he had been to theirs. They flexed their hands and their claws extended, easily and cleanly ripping the seams of Galo’s pants, leaving behind nothing but rags. Galo could not even be bothered to be mad when he saw the way Lio licked their lips when they drank in the sight of Galo, now fully bare. He’d never seen such blatant desire. It was an all-consuming kind of hunger, the kind that wildfire feels for a pine forest in drought, or what a typhoon feels as it unhinges its jaws and bites deep into the meat of a coastline. It was a force of nature, that bone-deep kind of yearning. It could fill you with greed right down to the marrow. Galo lay there prone and pinned beneath their piercing gaze, an insect affixed to cardboard for Lio to keep forever. It was as thrilling as it was terrifying, to know that Lio could destroy him, but chose to love him instead.

Having grown impatient, Lio slid off of him and pulled at him until he sat on the edge of the bed. They knelt before him, lowering their body down between his legs and settling in like they had all the time in the world. When they met his eye, Galo’s brain only had time to process that they looked extremely smug, and then his brain turned off entirely as they swallowed him down to the root. He cursed and his hands scrambled for purchase, latching once again on the two horns on either side of Lio’s head. The defined muscles of his abdomen clenched and rippled with the effort of not thrusting into that wet heat. He stroked and gripped the smooth curve of the horns he held instead of selfishly chasing his own gratification. Lio’s throat vibrated against him as they groaned in pleasure, taking Galo deeper into their throat. Their hands gripped his thighs tight enough to leave bruises as they started to bob and work Galo further into their throat. Soon that pointed tail came up to nudge at Galo’s hands, granting him permission to use them as he saw fit. Galo moaned again as he started to rock his hips up, using the horns as leverage to bring Lio down to meet him. His cock made obscene, slick sounds as he fucked into the constriction of Lio’s throat. Lio’s luminous eyes gazed up at him, the barest hint of tears pooling in the corners. They somehow managed to still look smug as Galo used them for all they were worth, and soon he felt that wicked tension curl low in his belly.

“Lio,” he gasped frantically, starting to lose rhythm as he neared his orgasm. Lio pulled off and bit him, drawing blood from his inner thigh as they stroked him off. “Lio, need you, need you,” he panted as Lio licked at the wound and stroked him faster. 

“Will you come for me?” Lio asked working their tongue over the head of Galo’s dick, dipping it into the slit. There was something mesmerizing about seeing that, first one half of the bifurcation, then the other, feeling it inside him in a place that had never been touched. Galo cursed and nodded as Lio grinned like a maniac before swallowing him down again. Right away, he set a furious pace and he fucked their mouth with abandon. His grip on their horns never wavered, until finally he pulled them down and buried himself as deep as he could go. He came with their name on his lips and a shocked cry as Lio’s wings burst from their back when he did.

\------------------

After, they lay together tangled up and basking in the afterglow. Lio had licked the beads of sweat from Galo’s chest and soothed the bite on his thigh, and they kept falling in to kiss each other breathless. It was too good, too perfect, and the guilt of knowing that they were about to ruin it lay heavy on Lio’s heart. They had already waited too long; they could not put it off any longer. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” Lio said, eyes downcast. They both still lay naked against the ruined sheets, and Lio had begun to shiver. Galo moved without thinking, wrapping his arms around them and pressing them close to his chest.

Galo’s brain might have been fuck-stupid, but that statement still screamed ‘red flag’. “Okay?” Galo said, quizzically. 

“When my mission is finished…” Lio trailed off, hesitant. They hated what they were about to say. “I will have to leave.”

“What?” Galo blurted out the question before he’d even completely processed what Lio had said. “What do you mean?” It felt like his guts were full of cold stones. What the hell? After the conversation they’d literally just had, how could Lio possibly be talking like this? What the _fuck_?

“I don’t have a choice in the matter. Remember how I mentioned bureaucracy?” Lio shifted against the mattress, laying on their side so that they could look him in the eye. “I’m kind of… In charge of it.”

“What.” Galo’s mind flashed back to the vermin, who had called Lio things like _lord_ and _great one_. He tried to put two and two together but came back with five. “Are you like, the president or something?” Close, but not quite right.

“Something like that.” Lio huffed a dry laugh. “More like… a suzerain.” They tried again when Galo stared at them blankly. “A chieftain?” Still nothing. They sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of their nose. “A prince, Galo.” They could practically hear the moment that the gears in Galo’s head clicked into place.

“WHAT!” If Galo had any brain cells left to spare, he would have been embarrassed at how shrill and loudly he had squawked. “Prince… A prince? Like… ‘ _someday my prince will come’_ prince?” Galo’s brain was soup, most certainly running out of his ears. It didn’t matter, the sheets were already destined for incineration. He’d known Lio was nothing like the lesser demons he’d seen, but a _prince_? What the fuck. _What the fuck_.

“Galo?” Lio asked, peering up at him with those vivid lavender eyes. “Are you okay?”

Galo, meanwhile, was still hung up on the word ‘prince’. Did that mean Lio had a castle? Galo’s only knowledge of castles came from Disney movies and his little sisters’ Barbie castle, that was still awesome. What was real estate in hell like? Did castles have to pay property taxes? If Lio was a prince, did that make Galo the Cinderella of this scenario? He’d always been more partial to Mulan because she was such a badass, but Mulan didn’t have a castle. Did Lio have a butler for his castle? A demon butler. That would be _dope as hell_ \- 

“Galo. Hello?” Lio was snapping their fingers in his face, trying to get his attention. “Are you in there?”

“Wait, if you’re a prince, that means you can break the rules, right? You can just choose to stay?” Galo asked, eyes distant as he still tried to calculate an answer. He was bad at math.

“I wish it were that simple, but rules are rules, Galo. They apply to me, too.”

“Fuck the rules!” Galo spat. “We _just_ talked about this! How can you say you’ll stay and then turn around and change your mind like that?!”

“I have not changed my mind, and I didn’t say it was forever. I just said that there are requirements I have to meet.” Lio kept their voice level even though they were clearly frustrated with Galo’s outburst. “Even my magic has limitations.” 

Galo squinted at them, skeptical. “What kind of limitations?”

Lio rubbed their eyes with closed fists as they stifled a yawn. “This is far too complicated for me to explain in depth, but I’ll try to keep it simple. You know how this is my plane-bound form?” Lio motioned at their entire body. Galo let his eyes slowly travel over them in appreciation before he nodded in answer. “Being plane-bound means that my magic is restricted. I still have it, but I can’t access it from your plane. I have only a certain amount allocated for my mission.”

“Okay…” Galo said, dragging out the word. “So like… what does that mean?”

“It means that I have to go back to my realm to replenish my magic.” They emphasized the point by talking with their hands. “If I don’t go back, I will eventually run out.”

“And what happens then?” Galo had a distinct feeling that it was going to be something horrible.

Lio put their hand on his shoulder and said very seriously, “If I run out of magic, I won’t be able to hold form at all anymore.”

“So you’ll become… what?” Galo pondered this for a moment. “A ghost? Jello?”

“I’ll die.” They said it way too casually for Galo’s taste.

“Well fuck, Lio! You should have led with that!” Galo flailed his arms, thumping them against the mattress in frustration and exasperation. “What the hell!” 

“I was trying to expla- you know what? Never mind.” They placed their hands on Galo’s chest. “What’s important is that I’ve been doing some research when I’ve gone back to replenish.”

“What kind of research?” Galo’s brow furrowed. He was barely holding on to the narrative here, and he desperately wanted to help.

“Research into how to solve this exact problem, and I think I have an answer.” Their tail swished against the bed, unintentionally stroking over Galo’s calf.

“Tell me what to do.” Galo cupped their cheek, blue eyes searching theirs. “I want to help, in any way I can.”

“That’s the thing… It will be you that has to do this.” Lio chewed their lower lip nervously.

“I’ve already said, I’ll do anything.” And he would, that was the problem. He would charge into anything without looking ahead, without thinking of the consequences. If Lio said jump, he’d say, ‘From which bridge?’

“I know, but I need you to know what you’re getting into.” Lio’s hands twisted in his shirt. They needed him to understand the weight of what they were about to ask of him.

“Then explain it to me!” Galo’s voice still had a frantic edge to it, but now he was determined. If there was a solution, they would find it together.

They stared at him for a long moment. “How do you feel... about blood magic?” 

“Extremely neutral.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to put on a brave face so that Lio would have faith in him. “Mostly because I have no idea what that means.”

“It means that I want you to use a ritual to summon me,” Lio said, trailing off. Here was the clincher: Lio knew that they were about to ask for too much, and yet they knew that they would ask for it anyway. “And then bind me. Permanently.”

“Bind you to what?” Galo asked, tilting his head to the side. His brows were drawn low, paying very close attention to everything Lio was saying. This was important, and he needed Lio to see that he was serious about keeping them.

Lio took a deep breath, centering themself before they said, “Your soul.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do y'all know how hard it is to describe demon dicks?????????


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My soul?” Galo felt dazed. It felt like the punchline to a cosmic joke that he did not understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did somebody say...................world building?  
> Anyway, we are about to get into the shit in the next few chapters, so buckle up, babes. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> \- cap

“My soul?” Galo felt dazed. It felt like the punchline to a cosmic joke that he did not understand.

Lio nodded, peering at him as if they expected to be rejected, pushed away or laughed at in disbelief. When Galo did none of these things, they decided to continue. “All magic has rules, and all of its users have to obey them. I’m not exempt from those laws, and therefore there are limitations on me and how I can function in this realm. But you, a denizen of _this_ realm… You aren’t subject to the rules of my plane.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” It was a fair question, Galo felt like he was getting a peek behind the metaphorical curtain, like he was looking up the universe’s skirt and he’d seen something he was not supposed to.

“If a human binds a demon, then the laws governing that demon’s power are nullified. They become subject to the rules that govern the plane of the person that bound them. Such a contract stipulates that if the demon is bound, its magic can be used at will by its master. Weaker demon, less power. Stronger demon, more power. Ergo…” Lio said, waving their hand in hopes that Galo could make the next logical step.

“So you could replenish without needing to go back?” Galo guessed correctly. His face went through a range of expressions, moving from satisfaction at having gotten the right answer, and then frowning when he realized the implications. “I don’t want to own you, Lio. You’re a person, I can’t just… do that.”

Lio cupped his face in their hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “You misunderstand. I’m asking for this. I want this.”

“What about your responsibilities? Aren’t those important?” Galo’s brows were drawn low. He wasn’t trying to talk Lio out of this, but he did not understand how they could just walk away from everything. 

Lio scoffed. “I’m hardly the only suzerain. Plus, my generals can handle any decisions on my behalf.”

“What are you going to do when I get old?” Galo’s brow furrowed somehow even further. He hadn’t considered the fact that he would age. What would it look like, then? He would be old and saggy, and Lio would still be young and beautiful. It weirded him out to think about it.

“I can change my appearance at will. We’ll grow old together.” Lio said it like they had thought of everything, because they had. “Galo, I’ve had years to think about this.” 

“What if you get tired of me?” Galo asked, small and scared. He had not planned to contemplate his own mortality, yet here he was. “What happens… When I die?”

“I can guarantee you that I won’t ever be tired of you. But if it helps, you can dismiss me at any time if you decide you don’t want this anymore,” Lio explained. “And when the time comes, you can either move on, or you can come with me. You will always have a choice, Galo.” Lio seemed so confident in all of it, as if there was no way they could possibly fail.

“That’s a lot of trust to put in me, Lio,” Galo murmured, running his fingers through Lio’s hair. “How can you be so sure I won’t hurt you?”

Lio gave a small smile and shrugged. “I chose you.” They said it as if it were a great universal truth, as if it had always been known and would always be known. Choosing Galo was as easy as breathing. It was part of what Lio was, what they would always be.

“I’m glad you did, and I want to do this for you.” That was so Galo, jumping into the water without first checking how deep it was. “But, how do you know I can even pull it off?”

“Because of these,” Lio said softly, gently tracing their fingers over the scars on his arm. 

“What about them?” Galo had come to accept those scars, but they were still sensitive. Sometimes they still ached, a low, painful thrum that ran through the skin and rooted itself in the muscle beneath.

“Were there times where you thought that they might never heal?” Lio asked, their tone colored with equal parts pity and compassion.

“They’re burn scars… I just thought...” Galo felt like his head was in a vice, slowly being squished like an overripe grape. “That was how they were.”

“Galo… They weren’t made by ordinary fire,” Lio stroked their fingers through his hair, petting him gently as his mind reeled. “Wounds made by an infernal, especially infernal fire, are slow to heal. By all accounts, it should have killed you. The fact that you even survived means that you must be marked by magic.”

“I can’t do magic,” he whined petulantly. It was upsetting his worldview, having all these doors opened to him when a few minutes ago, he had not even known that such doors existed. Galo’s head ached. Lio had a bad habit of being cryptic when they should just lay all their cards out on the table, but Galo clenched his teeth and held on.

“You’ve never done magic because you have not had the right tools. It doesn’t mean that the potential is gone. What matters is if the potential is activated or not, and these,” Lio explained, hand hovering over his scarred arm again but not touching. “Tell me that your potential is no longer latent.” 

“Is that why… Is that why they kept saying I was useful? Because of that?” Galo’s mind flicked through endless pictures of the demons that plagued him, how they tried to feed on him.

Lio gave him a sad little smile. “You’re a rare being, Galo Thymos, a living conduit. Instead of dying, your body decided to channel magic instead. Not all demons would see you as anything more than a means to try to break the laws of our plane. That’s why they come for you. We’ve been lucky that nothing smarter has tried to make a go of it.”

Galo shivered at the thought. Lio was powerful, that he knew. He could not even begin to imagine what something stronger than Lio would look like. He did not care to think about it further. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” he admitted. He’d be stupid not to be scared of this, the enormity of it all. A few months ago, he’d just been a depressed piece of shit, another twenty-something trying to make a living like every other schmuck in the world. 

“I will help you every step of the way,” Lio promised, murmuring against his ear. That deep voice sent a shiver up Galo’s spine, effectively distracting him from the looming feeling of impending doom that had started to well up inside him. “It won’t be easy, but we will get through it together.” They laid a hand over his heart and pressed their forehead to his temple in reassurance, then began to trail featherlight kisses across his jaw and down his neck. His breath hitched in his chest, and he chose to lay aside these thoughts for another day. He wanted to get his hands on Lio again, to show them how badly he wanted them to stay. 

“Kiss me,” Lio breathed, and Galo did.

\------------------

Saturday morning crept in slowly, pale sunlight kissing Galo’s cheeks like a lover. He stretched and yawned, and very suddenly remembered that he was naked when he felt Lio’s warm, silky skin pressed flush against his own. He blushed hard when he remembered what had happened the night before, and he bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin. Lio was still asleep next to him, snoring softly. They had kicked off the covers during the night, and their bare ass was on display to the world as they sprawled across both Galo and the bed like a starfish. They grumbled when he shifted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, reaching over to feel around his side of the bed, looking for him. 

“I’m gonna run to the store real quick,” he murmured, squeezing their hand. “I’ll make pancakes when I get back. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Lio mumbled, still face-down in the mattress. “...I like pancakes…”

Galo chuckled as he pulled his jeans up, not bothering to put underwear on. “I know you do.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to their messy bird nest of their hair. Lio always had the most incredible bedhead, it was truly gravity defying. “I’ll be back soon.” He got a dirty look from his neighbor as he loudly whistled a jaunty little tune on his way to the car, but he could not be bothered to care.

\------------------

Aina hadn’t been to Galo’s apartment more than a handful of times. It was far too small to be any good for hosting parties, and it had a distinct feet-and-corn-chip smell. Boys were gross, and Galo was not known for his cleanliness. Every time she went over there, her lesbianism was just further reaffirmed. Still, she was worried for Galo after he’d been so upset at work and Aina prided herself on being a great friend, so she’d stopped by to check on him. The situation he’d described could have gone either way, and he would need support if it had gone sour. It was just after 9:30 am when she knocked. She heard movement inside and the door swung open.

“Galo, I forgot to tell you we’re out of peanut bu-,” said an ethereal and waifish blond. They looked like they had recently woken up, dressed in what was obviously one of Galo’s oversized fire department shirts and very distinct pair of boxers that read ‘In case of fire, pull out hose’ with little flames on the bottom. They blinked owlishly when they realized that Aina was, in fact, not Galo. They held a nearly empty jar in one hand, and had peanut butter smeared all over the other. They’d clearly been eating out of the container with their hands like a goblin, but Aina decided to withhold her judgment. “Who the hell are you?” they asked, frowning at her and puffing up a bit. Huh. Territorial.

“It’s a bit early in the morning for you to be so hostile,” Aina said curtly. She was not in the mood for this shit. “I’m looking for Galo. Is he here?” 

They looked at her like she was stupid. “Obviously not, since I just answered the door as if I was expecting him,” snarked the peanut butter gremlin. “I’ll tell him you stopped by. Bye.” They clearly had no interest in speaking to her and were trying to end the conversation by closing the door. 

Aina huffed and stuck her foot out, preventing them from shutting it. They looked vaguely irritated as they licked peanut butter from their fingers and stared at her with that _I said good day_ look. What the fuck? Did they have a split tongue? Aina didn’t know that Galo was into _that_ kind of thing. She knew he had unusual taste in a lot of things but to each their own, she supposed. She squinted at the person before here, looking them up and down appraisingly. They had a very unusual look, with those wide lavender eyes and porcelain complexion. Nothing about them seemed real, as if they were art come to life. “Are you Galo’s… partner?”

“Yes.” They said immediately, tone still defensive. “Why?”

“Galo told me that you had a fight,” Aina said, skirting around the fact that Galo had not explicitly said that, but she was sure that was what had happened. “I just wanted to check in on him and make sure he was okay.”

They stared at her for a long moment, and then stood aside from the door as if they’d suddenly come to a decision. “He’s getting groceries. He should be back soon.” 

Aina guessed that this was as close to an invitation as she was going to get. She sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar, taking in the setting. She’d forgotten how much of a shoebox Galo’s place was, but it was no longer the stinky depression hole she remembered. The bed was made, and the countertops were clear and clean. There wasn’t trash on the floor anymore, and the ever-present crusty-ass pot of day-old mac and cheese was nowhere to be seen. There was actually art on the wall now, mostly just tacked up pieces of construction paper with crayon drawings on them. She smiled when she realized that the blue blob depicted there was supposed to be Galo. The other was of some scarecrow-like stick figure with a shock of yellow hair. The last paper depicted a little black bat-like creature with horns, and another drawing of Galo. She thought it was sweet that he’d pinned up a drawing his little sister had made for him.

“Do you want a, uh… this?” they asked her as they stared into the fridge and frowned. They held up a single strawberry-kiwi Capri Sun. 

“Wow, I haven’t had one of these in forever! Yes, thanks,” Aina replied enthusiastically. They tossed it to her and she caught it. 

“Galo buys them. He thinks I like them, but he likes them a lot more than I do. I don’t say anything and let him keep thinking they’re for me because I know he won’t buy them for himself.” That was… unexpected, and incredibly sweet.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Aina asked, eyeing the little pouch and puncturing the opening with the flimsy straw.

The sound of rummaging almost drowned out their response as they said, “Lio.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Aina. I work with Galo,” she said between sips, trying her damndest to make conversation but Lio seemed to be resisting her charms. “He talks about you a lot.”

That got Lio’s attention. They poked their head up over the refrigerator door, peering at her like with those strange, vivid eyes. “What does he say?”

She sucked on her Capri Sun obnoxiously loudly, trying to get a rise out of Lio. She smirked at them as she said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a question, but they answered it like one.

She snorted. This person was weird. “He talks about you like you hung the moon.”

“That’s impossible,” they replied flatly. “The moon is a celestial body, not a human construct.”

Aina looked at them incredulously and then scoffed. “Don’t be a dick. What I mean to say,” she tried again. “Is that he likes you a lot, Lio. He really cares about you.”

Lio blushed and tucked their hair behind their ear shyly. Luckily, they had washed the peanut butter off before they’d gone to dig in the fridge. They opened their mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by the sound of keys in the lock.

“Lio?” Galo called, arms loaded down with groceries. He kicked the door shut with his heel and stomped into the kitchen, dumping the bags onto the counter. He grinned when he saw Lio, still standing there with the fridge door open. “C’mere,” he said as he swept them into his arms for a passionate kiss. Aina fake coughed, and Galo’s head whipped around. 

“Aina?” he asked, very confused. He looked down at Lio and noticed that they were not wearing pants. “Lio! Pants!” he yelped, but Lio just scowled at him before ignoring him in favor of rooting through the grocery bags like a raccoon in the trash. “Hey, uh, hi! Aina! What’s up? Why are you here?”

She shook her head and smiled fondly as she told him, “Just came to check on you after our conversation on Friday. I was worried.”

He looked at Lio, who was trying and failing to open a pudding cup. He swatted their hands as he hissed, “I told you I was making pancakes! Go put pants on!” Lio scowled even harder as they dropped the pudding cup on the counter and skulked away toward the bathroom.

Aina only spoke again when they’d shut the door. “So Lio seems… nice,” she said sarcastically.

Galo laughed. “Lio’s only nice to me. They can be a real jerk, but I love them anyway.” Aina raised an eyebrow as Galo’s smile slowly melted into a look of shocked horror. “I… did not mean to say that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

Aina just smirked at him. “Uh huh. Anyway, I came here to see if you were okay. What happened last night?”

Galo’s ears went red and he stammered, “We uh, talked it out.” So much for playing it cool.

“‘Talked it out,’” Aina said, moving her fingers to form air quotes. “Sure, Galo. You can just say you got laid.”

“No really!” Galo gave her a pleading look, overcome by how flustered he was. “We really talked it out! I swear!”

She went in for the kill. “Sure, I’m certain you talked about it. Is that why Lio is wearing your underwear?” Lio chose that exact moment to walk out of the bathroom, somehow wearing less clothing than they had on when they went in.

“Are you talking about me?” Lio asked, standing there in those ugly boxers.

“Galo was just telling me about what you guys did last night,” Aina said, crossing her arms over her chest with a mischievous look.

“We sucked each other off!” Lio declared proudly, then looked startled as Galo screeched and lunged to clamp a hand over their mouth. 

“ _Anyway_ , Lio is going to go put some pants on! BYE LIO,” Galo yelled shrilly as he stuffed a protesting Lio back into the bathroom. 

Lio’s muffled voice came through the door. “Galo? Am I not supposed to say that? I thought you liked it when I sucked your dick.” 

Aina gave him a shit-eating grin and cackled as Galo flailed and screeched again. Not long after that, Aina took her leave and Galo walked her to her car. When he came back, Lio was standing in the middle of the apartment, still clad only in those tacky boxers. He pointed at them menacingly, and growled, “ _You._ ” They shriek-laughed and tried to run but Galo tackled them to the bed, giggling like a loon. 

“You. Are. So. Rotten,” he scolded, punctuating each word with a sloppy, smacking kiss to their cheek, their chin, their collar bone, the column of a pale neck. Laughter turned to breathy sighs as playful wrestling grew more heated. They ended up stripping each other out of their clothes and rutting against each other. The apartment was filled with the sounds of wet kisses and pleasured groans as Galo’s big spit-slicked hand wrapped around them both, moving in torturously slow strokes. It was a wonderful way to spend a morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The behemoth grinned, turning toward Galo again. It bent close to his face and growled, “Come on, don’t be shy now. Call the boss for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for sticking with me this far. I have been dealing with a lot of personal shit and your kind comments really mean a lot to me. I keep trying to estimate how many chapters remain but this piece keeps deciding it wants to have a real plot so I will let you know when I've finally got it nailed down.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes, I will edit it in the morning.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> \- cap

A week passed in relative silence, the two of them busying themselves with their own respective work. It was late on Friday evening, and they’d spent it whiling away the hours as they usually did. Lio had tried to make burgers for dinner but Galo had intervened when he looked up and saw that Lio was about to try to sneak a mouthful of raw meat. They, after much pouting and complaining that they would _not_ get sick, _Galo_ , had henceforth been banned from the kitchen for 48 hours. Now, Lio was hunched over the Hello Kitty journal with their eyes mere centimeters from the paper, giving Galo a withering look when he tried to tell them that they would go blind sitting like that. They had been at it for hours, carefully and meticulously drawing the diagram of their summoning circle. In the margins, they’d included annotations that denoted how each element and symbol worked. Galo had made a valiant effort to stay awake and pay attention to Lio’s murmured explanations but he had long since fallen asleep leaning against the headboard, lulled by the radiating warmth of Lio curled up in the vee of his legs and the rhythmic scratching of pencil against paper. The diagram had to be exact, flawless and perfect. This type of magic, and all magic really, was inflexible and unforgiving. It would not tolerate any mistakes. Lio would not be allowed to draw the real final circle for Galo, that he must do himself. 

They rubbed their knuckles against their tired eyes, lamenting the complexity of the situation. Summonings must be performed under a waxing moon while it was in the house of Virgo, giving them just under a month to prepare everything. Lio internally groaned at the thought of having to teach Galo, the same man who consistently referred to espresso as ‘expresso’, to read and pronounce Latin. The man was by no means stupid, but his brain worked in truly mysterious and unpredictable ways. Still, Lio had faith in the power of Galo’s will alone, because Galo, by Lio’s understanding, was God’s perfect idiot and more stubborn than a whole herd of mules. They’d started drafting a materials list, but had encountered a problem: there were things that they needed that they could not acquire from this realm. They would have to call a courier, and they were dreading having to explain themself to whoever answered the summons. In the meantime, they would set about gathering what they could and forging what they could not. They spent most of the night like that, listening to Galo snore and drawing out the greater and lesser keys and circles, mapping out each individual symbol in big broad strokes so that they could be seen clearly. It was tedious, but necessary work. Their concentration was broken when Galo whimpered in his sleep, twitching in the throes of a dream. Lio felt a yank on the strings of their heart, pulling at them, calling them in. They blew their hair up off their forehead with a deep sigh and laid the pencil down, careful not to smudge the graphite. There was other work to be done now.

\------------------

Galo felt heat. It was not yet blistering, but it was uncomfortably hot and he was sweating beneath the blankets. Smoke began to pour in from beneath the door frame, more smoke than ever before. It flowed across the ceiling, writhing and coiling around on itself with purposeful movements. It split into two streams, pooling on opposite corners on the far wall. Each began to take on distinct shape, sliding down the wall and onto the floor. They remained amorphous as they wormed their way across the carpet. He could not help but feel vaguely confused. These two things did not behave in the same way as the others before them had. They almost behaved playfully as they chased and wound around each other, like squirrels around the base of a tree. They spiraled around each other and disappeared beneath the bed. Galo tried to sit up, knowing that it would not work. He sighed internally, annoyed at the inconvenience of having his sleep disrupted. He’d gotten used to having restful sleep. Maybe he’d become a little spoiled. He felt vaguely annoyed by the whole situation, as there were larger things on his mind. These two schmucks were just being obnoxious and he wished they’d get on with it. This was getting boring.

“Are you serious? You’re bored?” The voice was deep and gravelly, multilayered like someone speaking through a distortion device. It appeared connected to the pillar of smoke that was snaking out from beneath the bed. “It’s no fun if you’re not even a little scared. Maybe we will have to try harder.” The pillar began to take on humanoid shape, now tall enough to scrape the ceiling. It had to remain hunched over due to its size, its horns digging divots into the plaster. It had only two, protruding from either side of its head. The rest of its skin was glossy black, its face ending in a snout full of saw-toothed fangs. Its arms were enormous, ringed with solid muscle that matched the size of its hulking frame. It stood with a half-erect posture, as if it were too top-heavy to stand completely upright. It leaned over Galo, its breath gusting torrid and stinking over his face as it opened its maw. As its mouth yawned even wider, exposing row upon row of those eerie green teeth, its great tongue dripped hot and slimy over his face. Galo whimpered and tried to squirm. “Still bored?” It asked, head tilted to the side in a way that said it was smirking. 

Galo tried to turn his face away as a second smoke column appeared at the elbow of the first. This one was smaller, insectoid with its additional limbs. The limbs themselves were segmented and serrated like the blade of a folding knife. “Stop playing with your food,” the creature admonished its companion. “We came here to find the boss, not to have snack time.” This being’s voice was low and monotone, but it was clearly the disciplinarian between the two of them. The behemoth stood up, gouging new lines into the ceiling as it stood. 

“Party pooper,” it grumbled. It sighed melodramatically and looked at its companion. “Pretty sure they won’t come if we call. Gotta make _him_ do it.”

“Well? Make him do it, then.” The insectoid creature looked at the hooked tip of its arm as if it were casually looking at its fingernails. 

The behemoth grinned, turning toward Galo again. It bent close to his face and growled, “Come on, don’t be shy now. Call the boss for us.” Galo whined and tried to wrench away as its big hand wrapped around his throat. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to turn his face away, but the sickle-shaped tips of its claws dug into his skin, causing beads of blood to pool at the surface. “Whatsa matter? Cat got your tongue?” It seized Galo’s face in one hand, pinching at the hinge of its jaw to force him to open his mouth. He tried to fight it, but he could not escape the hold. The pressure against his jawbone became unbearable, and he yielded. His eyes blazed with fury, pissed as all hell when the creature leaned in further. It moved its thumb to his bottom teeth, pulling his mouth open as wide as it could go. “Lemme in, honey. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Galo’s head went fuzzy as the creature dissipated into smoke. It settled into his lungs like a coating, and it felt like something was moving beneath his skin. It itched in a way that set his mind on fire, burning him up from the inside out with the need to dig the wrongness out with his fingernails and teeth. It was invasive and violating, leaving him feeling filthy as the creature settled into his skin, sharing it with him. It was not as if it had replaced Galo as the operator of his body, it had simply shouldered him aside, forcing him to let it copilot. Moving for him, it sat up and Galo retched. Little more than saliva and bright yellow bile came up, dribbling down his chin and onto the bedding as he gagged. 

“Make the call,” the insectoid creature reminded it. It no longer looked bored, but instead disgusted by the sight of human weakness.

Galo pinched the meat of his thigh, feeling the creature inside him recoil from the pain. He powered through, growling, “I won’t! I won’t give Lio up, you bastards. Eat shit and choke on it!”

Galo felt his body rattle as the creature within him reached up to yank at his hair, clutching it tight in his own fist. It used his voice to speak. _“Feisty one, ain’t he? No matter. You tethered the boss?_ You _? There’s no power in here. It’s weird. I don’t know how you managed to do it.”_

“I don’t think it’s him that tethered the boss. That word he said,” the insect said. “Try saying that. Probably a word of evocation.”

“ _Couldn’t hurt_.” Galo felt his own shoulders shrug. It cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. It spoke clearly and loudly, but with weird annunciation on the name, “Lio _, I invite you in_.”

\------------------

Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. Lio knew it by the way that Galo called to them, his voice traveling between planes and into their ears only to strike a sour note when it arrived. They were drawn to him, they always would be, but this time they were not sure what they would find when they got there. They stood before the door, the one that separated the corridors between realms from the chamber that they sought. It should have felt hot, but the wood remained unwarped and there was no smoke to be seen. These telltale markers of Galo’s nightmares were conspicuously absent, and they heard movement within. Whatever it was in there, it was not Galo. They swung the door open, ready to fight and kill whatever it was that awaited them. They did not expect… this.

“ _Boss!_ ” Galo greeted them, waving happily and grinning. The blue of his iris had been swallowed by red, ugly and wrong on his pretty face. The insect-like creature next to them gave a casual wave. Galo was standing up. Galo, who could not move or walk in this realm as a general rule, was standing up and waving at them like a goon.

“What,” Lio said flatly. If these idiots managed to find them, it was truly shocking that nothing else had.

“You really gave us the runaround there, my _lord_ ,” the six-limbed being said. It was haughty, the way they emphasized the word _lord_ , as if it were an insult instead of a noble title.

“ _We’ve been looking for you everywhere!_ ” Galo said, staring up at Lio with bright red eyes. He blinked, vertical pupil dilating as he shook his head like a dog. “Lio? Lio! Go, run! They’re trying to take you!”

Lio squinted at Galo, and held up a hand. “Okay, two things. One: get out of him, right this second. And two: how the fuck did you find me?”

“ _Aww, boss_ ,” Galo groaned and pouted. " _You’re no fun_.” He then collapsed to his knees, retching again as he vomited up oily black smoke onto the floor. It splattered against the race car rug, before slithering away next to the other creature. It rose up, spiraling around itself and forming the hulking behemoth creature again. Galo was left gagging and panting on the ground.

Lio bent down and scooped him up, holding him to their chest like a baby, as if he weighed nothing. “Don’t _ever_ do that again. Understand?” Galo buried his face in Lio’s thick scaly neck, ignoring the pokes and prods he received in return. He felt safe there.

The enormous creature had the nerve to look sheepish as it said, “Yes, boss. Sorry, boss.”

The scorpion-like creature spoke next, halfway between annoyed and angry. “So is this where you’ve been sneaking off to this whole time?” 

“We are not having this conversation here. Being here for too long makes him ill. Follow me,” Lio spoke with authority and brooked no argument. They turned on their heel and strode out the door into the seemingly endless corridor, carrying Galo home.

\------------------

“You traded the luxury of the palace for… this? Our prison cells are bigger than this.” The many-limbed demon’s incredulous tone of voice more than made up for its expressionless face. 

“Yes. Do you have a problem with my choices that you’d like to discuss?” Lio asked, laying a now passed out Galo on the bed and tucking him in. They pressed a kiss to his hair out of sheer force of habit, and were back in their fully human form.

“Oh,” said the hulking creature, dumbly. It pointed a meaty finger back and forth between Galo and Lio. “I get it now. This is a sex thing.”

Lio raised an eyebrow at them in a very human expression of exasperation. “It is _not_ a sex thing.” Okay, it kind of was now, but that’s not all it was.

“Riiight,” said the insectoid demon. “You got yourself a shiny new toy and now you think you can shirk your duties? Without even telling us? That’s not like you, boss.”

“He’s not a pet. He’s… important to me,” Lio struggled to explain. How could they even begin to hope that these two dummies would understand the depth of what they felt? “Why have you come?”

The two other demons looked at each other, and sighed. “We told you that there’s bad news.”

Lio’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of bad news? Wait, before we get into any of that. You should take on humanoid form. He’s going to freak out if he sees you again when he wakes up.” They said it with a sigh, as if it had happened multiple times before, because it absolutely had.

“‘Freak out’? Why are you talking like that?” Still, the insect-like demon moved to comply and the hulking creature followed suit. Glowing light stemmed from their bellies as they spent their magic, limbs shrinking and retracting until they looked as close to human as Lio supposed they ever would.

Where the insect-like creature stood, now stood a man with a single blue horn protruding from his head. He lacked the wings and tail that Lio had, but retained the black shining scales along with a dusting of turquoise ones that ringed his jaw, torso, and the joints of his limbs. The scales were iridescent, shining like beetle wings. Sharp teeth graced his mouth, crowned with pronounced canines. His face would have been beautiful if he wasn’t terrifying, but the look was softened as part of his face was shielded by a curtain of silky jet black hair. His companion also stood there, now awkwardly lanky with their overly long limbs. Their red eyes still glowed, deep set beneath an overhanging shock of bright red locks. They too carried the same onyx scales, ringed by red below their pectoral muscles and around the joint of their elbows and knees. Unlike their companion, they also carried a series of three bone-like spikes that jutted out from their forearms. They were sharp and wild-looking, whereas their partner had a more cool air about them. They looked as opposites, fire and ice, but both carried the ability to burn.

Lio themself pulled on boxer shorts as their guests stood there, unconcerned with their own nudity. “I’ll get you some clothes…” Lio trailed off and started digging in the drawers, tossing out a pair of sweatpants and a set of compression shorts. The two other demons held them up pinched between their fingers as if Lio had just thrown toxic waste at them.

“I am _not_ putting this on. What the fuck,” the redhead said, scowling at the garment as if it it had personally offended them. 

“He prefers to have people wear clothes in the hou- oh no, now you’ve done it,” Lio sighed, shaking their head. “You’re not allowed to sit in the chair without pants on.”

“What the fuck?” The long haired man looked up at Lio in disbelief. “Are you joking right now? Who even _are_ you?”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on, boss? Are you being held against your will? Or under a thrall? Blink twice if you’re under duress!” The redhead had since reluctantly complied with the clothing request, stuffing themself into the compression shorts and glowering while their companion lounged in the chair. They started to bicker, but it was cut short by Galo stirring.

“Lio?” Galo was awake, mumbling their name and feeling around their side of the bed. “Lio?”

“Here,” they said softly, smiling when Galo reached for them. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Galo muttered, burying his face against Lio’s hip. “Had a weird dream. My throat hurts.” Galo looked up as the redhead tripped over the cord to the Xbox, causing something on the TV stand to crash to the ground. The console was mortally wounded.

They grinned sheepishly, their fanged mouth far too wide for their face. “Oops. Sorry about that.” They were decidedly not sorry about anything.

“ _You,_ ” Galo growled, pointing a finger at the redhead. “You… You _fuckface_! Get out of our house, asshole! Bastard!”

“‘Our house’?” The long haired man questioned, sitting back as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked like he was barely containing a snide remark. “What exactly is he to you? We deserve to know, considering that we have been taking on your responsibilities during your… extended absence.”

“He’s…” Lio searched for words. “He’s special to me, and a living conduit.”

“Oh, you've taken on a familiar, then. You can always get another. We need to go,” the general said, short and brusque. “There are other conduits.”

“You misunderstand. He isn’t my familiar. He’s mine, as I am his. He’s my… what’s the word?” Lio looked at Galo, asking for help.

“Partner,” Galo supplied, keeping his voice low and quiet.

“He’s my partner,” Lio corrected. “I chose him, and I’m not leaving him. Ever.”

“You’re shacking up with a human?” The disbelief in the demon’s tone was palpable. “Your assignment should have ended _months_ ago. This is what you’ve been doing this whole time?”

“Yes,” Lio said simply, unaffected by his subordinate’s attitude. “I have chosen to live here, and I will continue to do so.”

“That’s real nice and all, but you have to come home. First of all, it’s where you belong,” the redhead declared. “And second of all, we told you we had bad news, and by bad, we mean _bad._ ”

“Lio,” Galo asked, concern coloring his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Why does he keep calling you that?” The long haired man spat, impatient and upset. “What does it mean?” 

“It’s my name,” Lio murmured, after hesitating for a long moment. They seemed almost reluctant to share that information. “It’s the name he gave me.”

“What,” the redhead asked, deadpan. “Are you serious? You let him _name_ you?” They looked at their partner with an expression that said, _This is worse than we thought._

“Yes,” Lio answered, turning away. “Do not try to make me feel ashamed of it. You won't succeed.”

“Can somebody _please_ tell me what’s going on? Hello?” Galo interjected, demanding his question be answered.

The redhead turned to him as Lio and the long haired demon stared each other down. “True names have power. To name something is to hold power over it, so we, demons of our status, do not carry names.”

Galo felt the blood drain from his face. How long had he had control over Lio without even realizing it? Had he been controlling them this whole time? Were they only here because they were obligated to be, because they could not say no? Had they slept with him because… Galo’s mind began to spiral into feelings of self-loathing and shame.

“How… How long has this been going on? the other man demanded, voice growing shrill as he became emotional and rose from his chair to stand toe to toe with Lio. “Who is this guy, anyway?”

“I’m Galo,” Galo answered distantly, causing the other two demons to jolt as if they’d forgotten he was there. “Can you stop talking like I’m not right here? I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“Shut up,” the demon spat, before pausing. “Wait. Galo?" the long haired man asked. "Like, _the_ Galo?” He was clearly still upset, but was no longer verging on fury as he had been earlier.

“Yes.” It was the simplest answer Lio could offer. Their generals had spent years hearing Lio go on and on about Galo, _the_ Galo, and how special he was and how Lio felt they were fated to find him again. Not that Lio had told Galo himself any of that, but still.

“Fuck.” The redhead slowly put a hand over their mouth in dawning recognition. “So you finally found him, huh. You know for the longest time, I didn’t even think he was rea-”

“It doesn’t matter. There are bigger things at stake here,” their companion interrupted. “Uprising. One of the other suzerains is building an army in hopes of overthrowing you in your absence.”

Lio sighed and rolled their eyes. “Which one?” Hopefully it was just yet another lesser that had gotten too big for their britches and could easily be dispatched. Alas, no such luck. 

“The first son of Aeshma,” the man answered, looking at Lio meaningfully. “You know. The biggest, meanest one? The one that really, really does not like you?”

“Cool. Love that for me,” Lio remarked sarcastically. Their generals just stared at them incredulously as they heaved an even deeper sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Alright, we will gather our own troops and attack as soon as possible. I don’t want to deal with this any longer than I have to.”

“You really should consider who this opponent is,” the redhead man interjected. “He’s not like the others you’ve fought so far. He’s nasty, and he has less than no honor. He is vicious as he is ruthless.”

Lio waved a hand at them dismissively. “I’m not worried about it.”

“You should be,” the man sitting in the recliner said seriously. “If we lose, the entire realm will be thrown into chaos.”

Galo wanted to keep his mouth shut, knowing better than to act like he knew anything about the kinds of politics they were discussing, but even he, who knew nothing about leadership or ruling a realm, could tell that this was serious business. He cleared his throat. “Lio,” he said, voice cracking. All three demons looked at him then, but Lio was the only one that looked at him without disdain upon hearing the name. “You should go with them, figure all this out. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

“I won’t leave you unprotected,” Lio retorted, unwilling to hear another word of it. “If that kind of enemy gets their hands on you, then there’s no telling how much suffering they would force you to endure. You are safer with me here.”

“Lio, they’re right, though. You have other people depending on you. You have to do what is best for them,” Galo said softly, hating every word of it even as he spoke. He wanted Lio to stay. He did not want to send them away, off into the dark unknown of their realm to encounter whatever lay in wait for them there. An uneasy silence had settled over the room, and it was broken when Lio spoke.

“I’ve decided. We will handle this in a way that will guarantee the fewest casualties on both sides.” Lio’s eyes were distant as they did mental calculations.

“What are you thinking?” The long haired demon’s eyes narrowed as if Lio was about to do something self-sacrificing and stupid.

“I will challenge the first son of Aeshma to single combat.” Lio knew it was a mistake even as they said the words aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I've had a headache for 3 days and have not proofread this in any way


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Galo,” Lio sighed, rubbing their temples. They looked deeply tired, their eyes suddenly ancient and weary. “This is what’s best for everyone. This is the best way to ensure the fewest casualties possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I feel like I should apologize for the relatively delayed update, but to be honest, the past two weeks have been absolute hell. This took me forever to write due to some personal circumstances but I hope you enjoy this chapter. I have included some more detailed author's notes at the end because I feel obligated to explain myself. Anxiety brain be like that sometimes.
> 
> \- cap

Galo was dumbstruck for approximately three seconds before the rage set in. “That… is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I have heard you ask if toothpaste is a dessert,” Galo spat, pinching the bridge of his nose as his temper piqued.

“It was mint, and mint is a _dessert flavor_ ,” Lio shot back defensively. “You should have explained that beforehand!”

Galo rolled his eyes and pressed on. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know much about this son of Algebra or whatever guy, but single combat? Are you for real?” 

“Galo,” Lio sighed, rubbing their temples. They looked deeply tired, their eyes suddenly ancient and weary. “This is what’s best for everyone. This is the best way to ensure the fewest casualties possible.”

“Did you not listen to anything these two just said? They just said that this dude isn’t your regular run of the mill enemy! He will _kill_ you, Lio!” Galo’s voice had risen as the very thought of it filled him with a sick sense of dread. “Do you think that I can just stand here and let you do that?!”

“If that is what it takes to keep you and the others safe, then so be it.” Lio’s voice was authoritative but distant, sounding rehearsed, as if they were reciting a line in a play that no one else had read the script for. “That is my duty.”

“You can’t possibly be serious!” Galo hissed, pointing at Lio with an emphatic finger. He swung his arm around to gesture at the two generals, who stood silent off to the side. “You can’t let Lio do this!”

Truthfully, Lio carried doubt about the decision they had made but they dug their heels in, as both the brave and the foolish are wont to do. “And how would you know that? You don’t know anything about my realm, its politics, its culture.” Lio retorted, annoyance clear in their voice. They were not used to being challenged, especially not by someone as vocal and volatile as Galo in a full temper flare. “How can you possibly tell me what I can and cannot do?” 

“Don’t pull that condescending bullshit with me, Lio. I know you better than that.” Galo’s face shifted into something cold and mask-like. “You called me your partner, did you not? That’s what you told them I am.” He waved his hand at the two generals who stood off to the side, looking extremely uncomfortable and as if they were trying to sneak their way out of this situation. “Do you know what it means? To call someone your partner?”

Lio stared at him, stone faced. “You’re out of your depth, Galo.” They crossed their arms over their chest as their appearance shifted, standing up tall in their demonic form to loom over him. “I suggest you back down.”

Oh, now Galo was _pissed._ He would not be intimidated, so he squared up and made himself as big as possible, too. Unfortunately, it was not as impressive as when Lio did it. “Calling someone your partner means that you make decisions _together_ , Lio! I won’t stand by and watch you serve yourself up like that. It’s ridiculous! There has to be another option!” With that, Galo was up in Lio’s face. Well, as best he could be when he was arguing with someone that was nine feet tall. “Don’t try to fucking bully me, Lio. You’re better than that. Don’t treat me like shit because you’re scared! I won’t tolerate this self-sacrificing crap!”

“It is not your choice to make,” Lio growled, leaning forward to hiss in Galo’s face. “If you don’t like it, then you can _leave_.” 

“Big talk from someone who isn’t paying the rent. _My_ name is on the _lease_ ,” Galo seethed through gritted teeth, bonking his forehead against Lio’s own, refusing to wince even as Lio’s scales ground into his skin. They stared at each other down, both going slightly cross-eyed from how close they were because they were both too stubborn to give in.

“Uh, boss...?” The red headed demon tapped their fingers together, nervously as they interrupted. The heads of both individuals snapped around to look at them, fixing them under a furious glare from two directions.

“What,” Lio said flatly. The red head’s eyes darted to their companion, a desperate plea for backup.

“May I speak freely?” The long-haired man stepped forward, placing his skinny body in front of his friend. The red headed demon gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder in thanks.

“Granted,” Lio answered reluctantly, voice still flat. They stood up straight, their form receding slightly back toward humanoid again. Galo wasn’t sure if Lio was even aware of it. The only thing that gave away their irritation was that traitorous tail, lashing against the carpet and smacking against Galo’s shins. Annoyed, he reached down to bat it away and it whacked him on the hand.

“Your human has a point,” he said begrudgingly, loath to admit that he and Galo agreed on anything. “You are a beloved and respected leader. There is no way that the people would accept such a decision,” the man explained as his companion nodded in agreement. “We must consider other options, lord.” This time, when he used the title, there was no sarcasm, only sincerity.

Galo bit back the urge to say something like _I told you so_ , because that was childish, and Galo prided himself on a responsible adult who could communicate effectively. While they spoke, Galo took internal stock. Why was he so furious? It was because once again, Lio was trying to make decisions for him, without him. That was the crux of it. Still, the reality was this: there was a chance that Lio could lose this battle, and even the slimmest of possibilities was too much of a risk for Galo to bear. This had escalated too far. They were not each other’s enemy and yet it had driven them to fight each other. He’d had enough. Galo took a deep breath and changed his approach. 

“Lio,” Galo said softly, letting his anger quell. Lio’s eyes turned to him with an intense stare, but he did not continue until he felt that ugly furious feeling shrink back into nothing, leaving only honesty behind. “You promised that you wouldn’t leave me. If it all goes wrong, if you die... I’ll be left here waiting for you.” He leaned his forehead against the pale scales of their belly. The fight had gone out of him, and all that was left was sadness. “Please don’t make me spend the rest of my life waiting for you. Please don’t leave me like that, not knowing why you never came home. There has to be another way.”

Lio was quiet for a long moment, surprised by the sound that tried to escape their throat. It came unbidden, a noise halfway between a gasp and a sob. They had not considered that; what would be left of them if they were to lose? Galo was right, he would be left alone. Galo, with all of his joy and all of his potential, would be left behind. Lio had made a promise long ago that they would be his friend. That promise had become a driving force for all the things that they had done up to this point. They were far too proud, far too stubborn to let something like that go. “What do you propose then?” they asked, still reluctant. They had never had to admit fault so publicly before, and it felt uncomfortable. 

Unfortunately, no one had a good answer. The two generals looked at each other, both with the same kind of sagging posture as they realized they had demanded an alternative without actually offering up a solution. Galo sat down hard on the edge of the bed, and the springs groaned beneath his weight. War was not an option, and truthfully Galo could not think of another way. They still had time to think, to plan, but none of them wanted to stand there and marinate in that awkward tense silence any longer. Lio pulled their two generals to the side for a quiet murmured conversation that Galo could not quite make out. They handed over a slip of paper with a handwritten list on it. Lio dismissed them and told them to return in a few days. When they finally departed, leaving Lio and Galo alone in the tense air of the apartment. Galo’s eyes tracked Lio as they started to pace, hellbent on wearing a track across the carpet.

Galo’s mind flicked through thoughts faster than he could understand them. “What do we do, Lio?”

Lio sighed but the manic beat of their pacing remained unchanged. “Magic seems to be the only other option. Physical combat will not end in our favor, as you’ve all said.” They waved their hands as they spoke, an idiosyncrasy that they had picked up from months spent with Galo. “I’ve sent my generals to retrieve some texts for me. They should provide further insight into what exactly the son of Aeshma’s powers are. Perhaps he has a weakness we can exploit.”

Galo pressed his hands into his tired eyes, feeling the slight itch of an idea forming in the back of his head. It was almost there, a smoke cloud slipping through his fingers as he reached for it. “Lio… How many ways can one bind a demon?” he asked, his tired mind feeling clumsy as he tried to grasp at the words. The clock had just ticked past four in the morning, and Galo could feel it in his bones, in the way his arm ached.

“Demons have been bound by humans for many purposes,” Lio replied softly. They were lost in their own thoughts, only half-listening to Galo’s question. “Why?”

“I just… What do people usually bind demons for?” Galo felt like he was racing against exhaustion, trying to formulate this idea before his body gave out on him.

“Most often we are used for our magic or other power. Some of us are bound for protection. As if demons and guard dogs are the same thing.” Lio scoffed bitterly at that last statement. “Humans have used us for a multitude of purposes, none of them good.”

“How… How many demons can a person bind at one time?” Galo stumbled over the question, that itching feeling growing stronger in the back of his mind. It felt like asking if pigs could fly, and Galo’s head swam with the surrealness, the absurdity of the situation in which he found himself. “Is it even possible to have more than one?”

Lio narrowed their eyes. “As many as the binder has the power to control, in theory,” they answered. “It is not unheard of for magic users to die during the attempted binding of just one.”

Galo nodded, rubbing his chin with his hand and then carding his fingers through his tangled hair. “And would they have to be bound to a person? Can you put a demon in a box or something?”

“Not necessarily. A binding receptacle can’t be just any old object,” Lio looked thoughtful, eyes alight with interest. “It’s difficult to bind something to a vessel, as physical objects tend to be more fragile than human bodies. A vessel can be broken or opened, and whatever is inside will be unleashed.” Lio scratched the back of their neck as they continued, “Not to mention that someone foolish could stumble upon said object and accidentally unleash something beyond their control.”

“What about like... a place?” Galo murmured, searching for words. He desperately wanted to sleep. “A place where no one would ever find him, and he couldn’t escape from? Like at the bottom of the ocean or an empty plane or something?”

“There are no truly empty planes, Galo. Those that appear empty are liminal spaces or narrow areas of overlap,” Lio replied with an aborted wave of their hand. “They’re temporally regulated and they-,” They paused, and Galo watched as an idea crystallized in real time, Lio’s eyes widening as something clicked into place. “A place…” They finally stopped pacing and absently chewed on the hooked end of one of their nails, eyes flicking back and forth as they ran through mental calculations. “That’s it. That has to be it.” 

“Okay, would you care to share the thought you just had?” Galo asked, skeptically taking in Lio’s satisfied grin. Lio’s entire mood had shifted, going from agitated to feisty in a moment. They climbed into his lap where he still sat at the edge of the mattress and tugged at the hem of his sleep shirt until he gently batted their hands away and took it off himself. Reverently and gently, they traced the pad of one clawed finger over the seam of his shoulder. It sent a tingle across the damaged skin, lighting up the nerves buried beneath. “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘the Devil can cite scripture for his own purpose’?” Their breath ghosted hot over his neck, and Galo shivered beneath the gentle hand as he shook his head. 

“I don’t know, maybe? Why?” Galo asked, overwhelmed. The surgeries he’d undergone to repair his arm had left him rewired wrong, rendering the scarred skin overwhelmingly sensitive to any sensory input. It made him feel raw, that kind of delicate, barely-there touch. He closed his eyes, hoping that it would help quiet his frazzled nerves.

“It’s a way of saying that even the word of God itself can be twisted to work in the devil’s favor. You started talking about places, and it was all I could think of.” Lio continued to walk their fingers down the length of his arm, saying, “There is a verse that reads, ‘ _And the key of the house of David will I lay upon his shoulder; so what he shall open, none shall shut, and what he shall shut, none shall open._ ’ Where is a place that only you can go? A place that no other human can enter?” 

Galo shook his head, confused. “Do you mean like, ‘you’ as in me, Galo, or ‘you’ as in… general?”

“I mean you as in you, Galo Thymos.” Lio smiled softly and continued to quote, “There is another verse in your bible that says, ‘ _I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose upon the earth will be loosed in heaven_.’” 

“What does that mean?” Galo asked, distracted by Lio’s proximity and the purposeful touch of their hands. “I don’t understand.”

“The place that you go when you dream. That Between place. It’s neither this realm nor mine, it is yours alone. We find a way to seal it off, never to be opened again,” Lio answered. “That room is a place that only you can go, once we solve the other little demon problem and bind me to you again.”

“How do we seal it off?” Galo asked, searching Lio’s face for an explanation. This was crazy, it was insane, but this was Galo’s life now.

“We will have to do a separate ritual. It won’t be easy. It will take a lot of planning. You’ll have to give something of yourself to power it,” Lio answered, tracing a thumb across his full lower lip.

“Something of myself?” Galo just let the madness of it all overtake him. He would just have to trust Lio to answer his questions and do this right. It was a lot to take in, and a lot of trust to put in Lio. “What will it need?”

“I’ll have to check the books once my couriers have brought them here, but most likely? Blood. The bigger the sacrifice, the stronger the seal.” The very thought made Lio feel ill. They could not stand to see Galo bleed. They leaned their forehead against his, resting there for a moment. “I am sorry, by the way.”

Galo looked up at them. “Sorry for what,” he asked. He wanted to hear it, he needed to know that Lio understood where he was coming from.

“For how much I ask of you,” Lio told him, voice low and serious. “I repeatedly ask too much of you, and you keep giving it. I asked for your love, and you gave it. I asked for your blood, and you gave it.” Lio’s arms wound around his neck as they pressed themself close. “I worry that I take too much of you.”

Galo hummed in acknowledgement, feeling the vibration of Lio’s words rumble against his skin. “You haven’t asked for anything that I’m not willing to give.”

“That isn’t all I’m sorry for,” Lio continued, pressing a kiss to his temple. Galo’s fingers tangled in their hair, sliding around to grasp at the nape of their neck. He gave them a reassuring squeeze, urging them to go on. “You were right. About partnership, I mean. I am very accustomed to making decisions for myself, by myself,” Lio scratched at Galo’s scalp in an attempt to distract themself from the uncomfortable feeling of having to explain their actions. “I should have taken more time to consider all of the options. I should have considered how they would affect you.” They reached out and cupped their hand against his cheek again. 

Galo leaned into the touch and placed his hand over theirs. “Do you understand what it means now? Being partners?” He chose his words carefully, demanding all of Lio’s attention as he held their gaze. “I understand that your world is different from mine, but if that’s what we are, then you can’t make decisions for me. Wherever we go, we go together. That’s how it is.”

“Yes,” Lio murmured as they pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his frowning mouth. “That’s how it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore this if you don't want to hear about my feelings lol  
> (t/w animal death, cancer, depression)
> 
> I have been staring at this fic for a week, desperately trying to write this chapter. Truthfully? I lost all inspiration there for a while. I had to put my dog to sleep after she was suddenly diagnosed with intestinal cancer and it fucking gutted me. She was my best friend and went through all of grad school hell with me. She was like, the closest thing I'll ever get to having children. I lost all drive and fell down the depression hole there for a while. A week has passed, and I'm feeling a little better. I finally felt well enough to write yesterday. I hope the quality of my work doesn't suffer, but sometimes life gets in the way. I want to keep going with this and I know I've gotten a bit of a reputation for quick updates and I feel like I'm disappointing people? idk. My brain has been mashed potatoes lately. I'm just glad I finally feel good enough to write again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I need you to be honest with me about something,” Galo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to work up his courage and steel his resolve. “Are you only here because I named you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep thinking that we are in the endgame of this fic but it keeps holding my brain cell hostage and demanding that the plot continue developing a bit more. Would you believe that I had originally outlined this to be five chapters? lmfao 
> 
> Unfortunately, Promare has cursed both my single brain cell and my dick, so I will write until I feel satisfied with this story.
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos. They really help me stay motivated and feel like I'm doing something good by continuing to write. They really do give me the courage to keep going, and it genuinely makes my day when you guys say that you have enjoyed a chapter. 
> 
> \- cap

Saturday crawled by at a glacial pace, but Sunday morning came in hard and fast. Time flowed strangely in their little apartment, and things hadn’t quite settled right between them since they had fought. Galo seemed a little distant, a little strange, and Lio was not much better. Each was worrying about the other, convinced that one of them was angry or upset. Of course, things would have been easier if they had just talked it out, but both were too stubborn, too proud to ask what exactly the other was thinking. Lio had not rested again since Friday, instead sitting up at Galo’s side, scribbling in the pink journal non-stop for all the hours he slept. They watched over him, attention never wavering as their hypervigilant mind circled back over and over the fine, fragile threads of their plan. Galo’s sleep was restful and dreamless, but it was clear that he was troubled. Lio’s heart twisted when they watched him, noticing that he looked tired even as he slept. He had deep purple bruises etched beneath his eyes that made him look so much older, more like he had when Lio had first come to him again. Lio hated that, the way that exhaustion aged him. Galo deserved rest, but unfortunately, it would have to come later.

When the sun had begun its ascent into the sky, Lio gently crawled over his sleeping body and padded their way into the kitchen to make coffee. They felt like they had something to make up to Galo, and they figured that breakfast was as good of a place as any to start. They let themself fall into the rhythm of cooking, looking up a simple recipe for waffle batter and mixing it up. The smell of coffee permeated the apartment, tickling Galo’s nose as he started to drift toward wakefulness. He rubbed the grit from his eyes and rolled onto his side, gazing at Lio where they stood in the kitchen. They wore one of his oversized hoodies over underwear, topped off with that stupid novelty apron that Galo had gotten stuck with at the firehouse’s last white elephant Christmas gift exchange. Galo couldn’t help the way his stomach swooped at the sight of that, Lio’s hair pulled back in a tiny little bun on the top of their head, tongue sticking out as they focused hard on their task. He let himself revel in it, soak it in, because it was rare that he got to feel this kind of peace. Watching Lio putter around in the kitchen was as close as he got to truly relaxing. His eyes drifted shut as he breathed in deeply, savoring the sweet smell of maple syrup and breakfast as the sound of coffee being poured into mugs reached his ears. 

“Lio?” he called out, voice gravelly with disuse and the last vestiges of sleep. “You need help?” 

Lio looked up and smiled at him, soft and genuine as they shook their head. “I’ve got it. You should sit up, though.” They clicked off the appliances and pushed their dirty dishes into the sink. They carried over two breakfast plates and handed them to Galo before going back for coffee mugs. He sat up to rest cross-legged against the headboard and held Lio’s plate as they settled down next to him. They ate in relative silence, shoulders pressed together as the tension seemed to ease a little. Lio had only slightly overcooked the waffles, a major improvement over the usual fare that came out looking like it had been spat out of the belly of a blast furnace. The coffee, however, was perfect as usual. Lio took coffee seriously, and Galo appreciated the careful love that went into it. When Galo had cleared his plate, he sipped easily at his mug and leaned his head on Lio’s shoulder. 

“Thanks for cooking. You did a good job,” he murmured into the thick fabric of Lio’s hoodie. Lio hummed and tipped their head to the side in an imitation of a hug, unable to speak due to the truly enormous bite of waffle they’d just shoved in their mouth.

“Lio… Are we okay?” Galo asked, still speaking into the sweatshirt and not directly to Lio. He felt Lio tense for a moment, and then shifted to face him, pushing him back with a gentle hand against his chest so they could look at his face.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” Lio replied, licking crumbs from their fork before setting it crosswise on their plate.

“I need you to be honest with me about something,” Galo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to work up his courage and steel his resolve. “Are you only here because I named you?”

Lio looked extremely confused, their eyebrows furrowing as their head cocked to the side. “Why would you think that?”

“Your… friend, the one with red hair? Told me that giving someone a name means that you can control them,” Galo said, voice low and pained. “Are you only with me because you can’t say no? I can’t live with it if that’s the reason why you’re staying, why you let me touch you...” He put his face in his hands, trying to hold it together long enough to finish the sentence. “Are you here against your will?”

“Galo, look at me. Listen,” Lio demanded, pulling his hands away to hold them in their own. “I have never, _ever_ once done something I didn’t want to do with you. If I didn’t want to stay, I wouldn’t. Don’t ever doubt that I’m here by choice.” They ran their fingers through his hair to comfort him, but a few strands got snagged in the sticky syrup that they had spilled. “Ugh, sorry. That’s gross,” Lio muttered, plucking the loose hairs off and licking remaining syrup from the digit.

Galo, who had been seconds from bursting into tears or something equally horrible, choked on his own saliva as he tried to laugh. He hacked and coughed and Lio banged on his back to help him out, but Galo waved them away. “You,” he wheezed between coughs. “You are so _gross_! Why would you do that!”

“ _Me_? I’m gross?” Lio had the audacity to look offended yet smug. “That’s rich coming from you. You constantly fart in your sleep. I nearly _die_ every single night because of you.” 

“It’s not my fault! I eat a lot of protein!” Galo scoffed, trying to ignore how his face heated in embarrassment as he shuffled the empty plates and mugs onto the nightstand. “And it’s bold of you to assume that _you_ don’t fart in your sleep, _stinky_.”

“I am _not_ stinky!” Lio howled, tackling him to the mattress. “Take it back!” The tension that had been building over the last day or so had dissipated, leaving only the playful ease that they usually felt behind.

“Yes, you are! You’re a stinky baby!” Galo cackled, trying to roll away to shield his sides from Lio’s vicious fingers as they tried to jab him in the ribs. “Smelly Lio! Stink Lord Lio! That’s what they call you, your _majesty_ , that’s what they put on all the formal invitations to eve-” Galo’s string of insults was cut off by a shriek as Lio wrestled his hands up above his head, wrapping his wrists tight together with their tail.

“Galo Thymos,” they growled, straddling his hips and holding him still as they threatened him with grabby hands. “Take it back! Or else!”

“Or else what?” Galo challenged, sticking his tongue out and blowing a raspberry. “Come on, big boss. Whatcha gonna do?” he drawled, knowing that he was playing with fire here. Lio, of course, rose to the bait and seized that exact moment to slap their hand over his mouth. Galo promptly licked them.

“What the fuck, did you just _lick_ me?! Why would you do that!” Lio flapped their hand in the air as if Galo had smeared something horribly foul on it. “How old are you?!”

“Twelve,” Galo laughed, trying lick at Lio’s hand again as they tried to wipe it off on his forehead. “Come on! Let me up,” he said, chuckling and tugging against the hold, but his hands were stuck firm.

“Hmm,” Lio said thoughtfully, tapping their finger to their chin. “Nope. Don’t think I will. Kinda like having you at my mercy.”

Galo’s breath rushed out in an extremely dramatic put-upon act of woe, lamenting, “Whatever shall I do! Trapped forever by a stinky demon! I am truly doomed to a fate worse than death!”

“You’re so annoying,” Lio huffed, nipping him on the earlobe. “Maybe I should just eat you up and be done with it.” They cocked an eyebrow at him just to see him squirm. Galo grinned up at them as they bent over him, their lips a hairbreadth from his own. They traced their tongue along his lower lip, and he shivered. “I think I’ll do just that,” Lio whispered against his mouth, close enough that Galo could feel the words vibrating against his skin. Galo nodded his head vigorously, nearly headbutting Lio in his enthusiasm. Lio kissed him then, deep and open-mouthed, letting their clever tongue thread against his own. They tasted of coffee and maple syrup, and Galo chased them as they smiled mischievously and leaned back to roll their hips in a filthy grind against his rapidly hardening dick. Suddenly, they sat bolt upright, posture stiff as they tilted their head as if listening to a sound that Galo could not hear. Their eyes went distant as they strained their ears and a split second later, there was a sickeningly loud crack as Lio’s two trusted generals tumbled out of a blazing bright rift that had opened right over the kitchen counter. The same pink and turquoise fire that Lio carried flared out of the opening itself, spilling sparkling embers out along the floor and counter top.

The bar top and two stools went crashing down with them, leaving them tangled in a pile of limbs, twisted metal, broken laminate, and a million loose pages, now singed at the corners, that had been freed from the books that they used to live in. Lio heaved a sigh like the world’s most disappointed parent as they looked at Galo with a look that said both _I am so sorry about this_ and _this is absolutely not over_. Their tail unraveled from his wrists and they rose off his lap to move toward the catastrophic mess that now occupied what was left of the kitchen bar area. Galo, for his part, pulled a pillow over his lap in hopes that no one would notice his current affliction. The two generals, both looking extremely harried, hustled around trying to scrape papers into piles and piling up broken pieces of the structure that had once been the breakfast bar. With respect to the particle board pieces, there were no survivors from the impact, as the two demons had been in their purest forms when they arrived so abruptly. The hulking demon was clumsily trying to pluck paper from the floor and was muttering a string of curses under their breath as their claws repeatedly snagged on the carpet and punched needle holes in the paper. “Lord, please forgive our intrusion, we are _so_ sorry,” the insectoid demon apologized, clearly pleading for mercy. “We were nearly intercepted on our way here, thus the um, rough landing.” Several of their arms waved around to indicate the mess. The bigger of the two, who had landed first and had absorbed the brunt of the impact, held up the battered corpse of Lio’s precious waffle maker, frowning as they looked back at the distinctly shaped burn pattern on their ass cheek.

“You broke my waffle maker!” Lio screeched at them as they scrambled to snatch it from the big demon’s paws. They delicately handed the parts to Galo, who held them carefully as they were still extremely hot from recent use. Lio waved at the other two demons, who were only succeeding in making more of a mess as they tried to help. “Stop at once. Step away.” Their voice was so firm when they spoke that the other two demons immediately froze in their tracks. They carefully placed down any items that still they carried and moved to stand out of the way. Their heads hung low like dogs that had been thoroughly scolded for pooping on the rug.

Lio’s hands worked independently, each deftly tracing a series of complex and overlapping shapes in the air. Every stroke of their delicate fingers dragged a streak of white light behind it. For only a moment each mark lingered in the air and it too sparked with the same signature colors that flavored Lio’s magic. They were murmuring lowly in a language that Galo could not name, their lilting words rhythmic and rapid as the flurry of symbols began to accumulate and lingered over the wreckage of the bar top. With one final flourish, they thrust their hand out into space, sending forward the symbols in a rushing arc of brilliant light. Whatever magic had been cast, its effect was impressive. The fire was the first to go, snuffed out by the weight of the magic being pressed against it. The pages of the books walked themselves home, settling down between their bindings in the proper order with the staccato grace of playing cards being shuffled in a bridge. When the books were repaired, they snapped their covers shut and waddled away toward Lio’s generals, rocking on the corners of their covers with the delicate steps of a ballerina en pointe. The other two had not reacted to such a scene, but Galo supposed that it was normal for them to witness such a thing. They knelt with open arms, embracing and gathering up the migrating herd of tomes when they made their way over. Meanwhile, the broken bones of the ruined bar stools rattled where they lay, and the chunks of the shattered counter top slid back into place. That pale charged light glowed faint as the broken fragments climbed and wound up and over each other as they scrambled to find their way back to where they belonged.

Galo was spellbound by all of this, watching the beauty of all of it unravel before him. Lio’s hands had moved with such careful placement, each symbol or rune carved from the air itself with the delicacy and fluidity of a calligrapher’s brush across rich, heavy paper. He had not seen magic like this before, something so alive and electric that he felt he might go blind from it. All he could do is stand there with his mouth hanging open in reverent awe, continuing to stare at the now repaired kitchen when Lio turned to him. Their cheeks were flushed pink with delight and a crooked little grin graced their mouth as they took in his dazzled expression. They gave a demure shrug of their shoulders and a half-hearted wave of their hand.

“I thought it would be easier like this. I haven’t gotten to do magic like that in a while,” Lio told him with a breathless laugh. “Feels like getting to run again when you’ve been cooped up for a long time.” They stretched their arms up over their head, giddy. They turned to their two generals, who still stood awkwardly off to the side and schooled their face into something more serious. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

“Yes, boss,” the big one said, stepping forward to hand over the few delicate items that they had managed to hold onto. As they moved Galo watched in horror as their horns scraped the ceiling, causing a flurry of plaster to rain down on the three of them. “Shit,” they muttered, abruptly changing to the humanoid form they’d held the last time they’d been here. “I can fix that,” they reassured everyone, followed by a barrage of apologies. They raised their hands to cast some magic of their own, but their insectoid companion stopped them. He shifted form as well, holding on tight to the wrist of his partner.

“Remember what happened the last time you tried to repair something?” the long-haired demon asked with a reproachful look. “You set half the east library wing on fire trying to remove an ink stain.” The redheaded demon looked sheepish as they lowered their arms. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess maybe someone else should do it,” they remarked, looking between Lio and their other companion. Lio rolled their eyes and slashed some runes into the air with one of their claws, repairing the ceiling in seconds.

“Any news?” Lio asked, crossing their arms and cocking their hip to the side. “You interrupted our morning activities, so I suggest you make it fast. I’d like to pick up where I left off.” Galo’s face burned and he buried his face in the pillow he still held onto as he realized he was still very much nude beneath the sheets. 

The redheaded demon snickered and the long haired one elbowed them hard in the ribs. “Same whispers as before. We’ve substantiated the rumors that the uprising is being led by the son of Aeshma himself. There are tensions among the nobility and the lessers as they are feeling driven to choose sides. It seems to be a pretty even split, mostly because no one knows if there will be war or not.” The man’s skin rippled as he shook his head, light catching off the pale blue scales that dusted his face. His dark eyes looked troubled as he searched Lio’s face. “We haven’t said more on the subject, as we had a disagreement last time regarding single combat.”

“We have since come up with an alternative plan,” Lio answered, clambering onto the mattress and sitting cross legged. Their generals followed suit, one sinking into the recliner and other sitting atop a stack of heavy books. “Galo suggested the idea of completing a binding.” If Galo had not been trying extra hard not to draw attention to himself, he would have preened.

Both other demons’ brows furrowed in confusion. “A binding? To whom?” the redhead asked curiously, as the other man said, “Galo suggested that?” at the same time. Galo scowled at him and settled down further under the comforter to bristle at the snide remark. 

Lio gave his general an unimpressed look for his insolence and responded to the other. “We will seek to bind the son of Aeshma to a place, not a vessel or a person. We’ve considered the possibility of manipulating the Between place for this purpose.”

“That’s… actually very clever,” the man muttered. “But how will you pull it off? It will require… a tremendous amount of magic. You’re not equipped for that. You’re still limited by the constraints of this assignment, unless you plan to use him...” He gestured at Galo with a sharp tilt of his chin.

“We have discussed it,” Lio replied, leaning their cheek on their fist. “I’ve been thinking about this, and it all seems like very convenient timing, doesn’t it? My being sent on mission, a mission the council of chieftains knew I would jump at, with such limited access to my magic? Hardly a coincidence.”

Lio’s subordinates glanced at each other, concerned. “We have considered that possibility as well,” the long-haired man uttered, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of regret. “Especially now that we are learning more and more about where council members’ loyalties lie. It seems that this is not a recent development.”

“How unfortunate,” Lio sighed, trying to sound unhurt by that information. “I have always prided myself on being fair and just, but I understand that not all of our kind think the way that our kin do.”

“The rumors have spoken of a resurgence of the old ways, a return to chaos and free access to the human realm to feed on whatever they want.” The redhead shivered at the thought, recalling how things had been before Lio came into power. “It would be a bloodbath. More realms than just our own would suffer.”

Lio nodded. They were young, but time flowed differently in the demonic realm. More years than ever had passed there, and Lio had seen many of them colored by blood and suffering. They had refused to watch it happen a moment longer and had seized power to prevent such a very thing as this. They motioned to the two that sat before them. “That’s why I’ve asked you for these resources, and I have also planned to ask for your help.”

“Us, boss?” The redhead looked starry-eyed, honored to even be considered. “We will help in any way we can, of course. We are still working on gathering some of the materials you asked for, but we have almost all of them. Will we need to double the list?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I know it was a pain in the ass to get your hands on what you already have, but we need it.” Lio sighed, rubbing their knuckles into their eyes. “I appreciate your efforts, and promise than when all this is settled, you can have some time to rest.” The generals smiled, knowing that they would make good on it. “For now, please continue as if nothing has changed. You must act like you are unaware of any of the subversive tactics of the other council members but continue to collect information. We have to be as many steps ahead of them as possible.”

“Understood,” they answered simultaneously.

“If there is nothing else to discuss,” Lio said, stretching their lithe legs out before them as they all got to their feet. “Please get out of our house. I want to eat my lunch in peace.”

“It’s like, ten in the morning in this realm, though,” the redhead said, squinting suspiciously. “Haven’t you already eaten?”

“Are you really going to ask me that?” Lio crossed their arms over their chest, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Go home. Be careful. Report back in three days.”

“Yes, boss,” came the duet of answers. With a blinding flare of bright light, they shifted form and stepped through a fresh rift. As suddenly as they had crashed in, they were gone, leaving only the smell of burning hair and a few sparkling embers behind.

“Galo, dear,” Lio called as they turned to face him tracing their tongue over the points of their sharp little teeth. They grinned with a wicked glint in their eye as they stalked toward him, planting themself in his lap again. All he could do was stare up at them with big doe eyes as they murmured, low and hungry, “Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we? I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented or has otherwise checked in on me since the last chapter was posted. I appreciate all of your concern and condolences, they really mean a lot. I'm going to be updating as I feel well, and luckily I have been feeling good in the past few days. :) I feel like I've made it to a point where I need to be constructive in order to continue feeling better, so this fic has been getting a lot of attention in the past few days.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How… How are you going to get the bad guy where we need him?”
> 
> Lio smiled, a wicked little thing, and Galo felt his heart flutter. “Diplomacy, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi hello, this is a long chapter because i wanted to give you guys a belated Valentine's day gift. Your comments and kudos keep me writing, and I really appreciate the time and effort it takes to do that. It means a lot to me and I am grateful for the support. I hope you enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> \- cap

Lio stalked forward with all the single-minded focus of a big cat stalking prey, licking their lips with the same kind of predatory grace. They hadn’t given Galo time to even draw a breath before they were on him, shoving him back into the sheets and pinning him beneath them. It took very little effort to stoke the fire back to life, and Lio had set about devouring him as if they wanted to make sure that not even a crumb remained. Galo, for his part, was absolutely convinced that he was going to die. Lio was dead set on sucking his soul clean out of his body, by way of his dick. He was going to perish happily at Lio’s hand, and he would be found shriveled up like a raisin with a big, dopey grin on his face and his parents would have to cover it up with a less embarrassing story. How much time had passed? Was it even still morning anymore? He could not possibly say, but he was certain that Lio was never, ever going to let up their relentless onslaught or let him come. He groaned and tried to flex his hands where they were bound against the headboard, but he made no leeway. He briefly thought of being bratty and making Lio work for it, of attempting to escape their iron grip where it held him fast, their tail wound around his wrists, but he knew that it would be futile. What was the point of running if you wanted to be caught?

Lio described their desire for Galo as akin to hunger, but they were nothing less than gluttonous. They’d not felt that kind of all-consuming ravenousness before they met Galo. They had never known such an urge to consume, to claim every bit of another being and leave nothing, not even bones, behind. The selfish part of them wanted to keep Galo like this, all to themself forever and to never have to share him with anyone. That kind of feeling was becoming more common for Lio, and the urgent desperation to fill the need was becoming more frequent. The only thing that helped the cravings, that could ease the painful pangs and alleviate the ache, was Galo. Galo spread out beneath them on the bed, or sitting in their lap, or in the shower. Just Galo, any way they could have him. They could never have enough of him, but they could certainly try. Galo, sweet and generous Galo, would let them have their fill of him and he would go right along with their every whim, content to be swept along in the stranglehold of Lio’s voracious appetites. Lio had never known what it was like to feel grateful before Galo had allowed them to touch him, to hold him.

“Hush, be good and let me take care of you,” Lio murmured to him as they continued their work, picking Galo apart at the seams one stitch at a time. They had pulled a half empty bottle of lube out of one of the nightstand drawers, and Galo had swallowed with an audible gulp as they began to slick up their fingers. “I want to do this for you, all you need to do is let me.” They loomed over him, vast and dark in their purest state as they toyed with him, planning on working him up and dangling him over the very edge just to slam him back down to earth again. They were so fixated on their lover that they had lost focus on controlling their form, their shape flitting between states until they finally let go of their last few threads of control. They were just so fucking big in this fully demonic shape, and Galo could feel the searing heat and hardness of their arousal against his ass. Lio completely ignored their own need, keeping true to their word of only wanting to bring Galo pleasure. They leaned forward to press what was likely intended to be a sweet, loving kiss to his mouth, but their movement had not only contorted Galo into a pretzel, but also crushed him beneath their weight. He finally dragged in a ragged breath as Lio let up on the pressure, sitting back on their heels with Galo’s legs draped about their waist. 

Lio leaned closer again, caging him in with the massive bulk of their body as they dragged their long, thick tongue over his chest, pinching at his nipples as they licked fat, wet stripes over his achingly hard cock. His mind kept fading in and out of coherence, only now realizing that every sound he made resulted in a spark shower beneath Lio’s skin. They growled low in their throat, a sound of pure animal satisfaction, as their hands pressed against the backs of his knees to spread his legs wide as he lay propped up against them. Galo was by no means a small man, and his legs were powerful and well-muscled, but with Lio’s giant hands wrapped around them? They might as well have looked like toothpicks. Gravity pulled his legs further apart, bending him nearly in half, giving Lio access to everything that they wanted. Galo could not help but feel incredibly exposed as they stroked their palms lovingly over his thighs, the crease of his hip. In contrast to the delicate gentleness of their touch, he could feel the faint bite of scales digging into his skin where he lay propped up on their thighs. Lio’s horns spiraled up from their head like an opalescent crown, eerie and pale, presenting a sharp contrast to the deep iridescent jet of their skin. Their muscles rippled, skin dancing with sparks as they moved to bring themself close to Galo’s cock again, staring up at him with single-minded focus. With those bright, glowing eyes and the grinning maw full of razor blade teeth, Galo knew that he probably should have been at least a little scared. He probably should have been screaming in terror at the frankly monstrous jaws that were so very near to his delicate bits, but then Lio would do that thing with their tongue that he liked so much and he would lose all sense of time and self. 

He gasped as Lio gave a sharp nip to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, sure to leave blooming purple bruises behind. He could do nothing but surrender to it. Outmatched and overpowered as he was, he could only let Lio drag him along in their wake. He moaned their name as they spread him even further, all other words now forgotten, as they dipped the fork of their tongue just inside the tight furl of his entrance. Every nerve in his body was set alight, every sensation amplified by the pinpricks of Lio’s claws digging into the meat of his thighs. Lio looked up at him through the curtain of their pale hair as he whimpered and tried to twist away from the onslaught of sensation, giving him a smug little smirk. The corner of their mouth quirked up slyly as they continued to lick and suck at his rim, determinedly working their tongue inside him. When he began to squirm too much, they let up a bit to give him a brief respite. They licked at his balls, rolling them with their tongue and up to the head of his cock. He kicked his feet a little petulantly as they hefted him off of the mattress, desperate for freedom of movement. He wanted to touch Lio, as it was torture to not be able to return any of this attention. He was very bad at being a passive lover, but Lio was using all of that power and strength to break him down and make him be still.

“L-Lio… Please, I can’t-,” he gasped, panting with over-stimulation as Lio moved him about like a ragdoll, cradled in the massive hands of their demonic form. “I need…!” Did he need more? Less? Nothing was the right answer, it was too much sensation, and yet it was not enough.

“Please what?” they asked, teasing and low as they repositioned him on his back. “What do you need?” Their fingers dragged over his heated skin, tracing the outline of the prominent vein on the underside of his dick before trailing down over the skin of his perineum. He had expected fingers, not the slick heat of an inhuman tongue sliding deeper into him. It flexed and stroked against him, darting into and out of him in a rhythmic slide. Galo could feel his body yielding to Lio’s tongue, which was now able to press into him with little to no resistance. Would his hole stay open if Lio pulled away? Lio seemed to be thinking the same thing. They spread him wide again, looking extremely satisfied as Galo whined at the loss. “That? Was that what you wanted?” They chuckled, deep and rumbling, as he tried in vain to move, to get Lio to touch him again. “Or maybe you need something more…” The question was accompanied by the smooth sound of a claw being resheathed, right before a moan was torn from deep in his chest. The blunt tip of a thick finger pressed against his spit-slick hole, sliding deeper inside him than Lio’s tongue had been able to touch. This touch was far more pointed, curling and stroking the velvety walls of his insides.

He chanted Lio’s name, the only word he could remember, head thrown back as he tried to adjust to the intrusion as a second finger joined the first. It was the first time he’d let another person do this to him, and he wanted to laugh at himself for jumping straight into the deep end with a literal demon. Lio held him up, moving him to give themself a better view of the action. They looked at him with an unusual mixture of hunger and intellectual curiosity, moving the digits in different ways in order to figure out what pleased their partner most. It was a little unnerving, that shrewd gaze, and they were merciless with their endeavor. Galo had a fleeting thought that he was certain that he was making an unattractive scrunched up face as Lio dragged their fingers over his prostate again and again. He’d started to feel the whipcord of tension pull somehow even more taut as Lio played with him like a toy, holding him firmly as he tried to exercise some control over his body. 

“Think you can take another?” Lio asked, stroking movements never ceasing. Galo whimpered and shook his head, more overwhelmed than unwilling. They hummed flatly. “What a shame. I think you could, but if you don’t think you’re up to the challenge…” 

“Do it,” Galo managed to rasp out, knowing that Lio was playing his own competitive nature against him. He could never resist a chance to prove people wrong.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” they questioned, their teasing touches receding into feather-light grazes over his prostate. “Are you sure you can take it?”

“Y-yes,” he tried to growl out, but it came out as more of a gasp. “I want it, Lio. Please,” he panted, already feeling paper-thin and teetering on edge. This would be the push he needed, and it would send him plummeting.

“That’s my Galo,” Lio grinned at him, sharp and devilish as they drew their fingers out, reslicked and dripping with lubricant, and began to push back in with three. “Think you can come from just this? My fingers in you?” Galo sobbed at the stretch, feeling like he was being wrenched apart and reformed around Lio as they continued their relentless press forward. The room had already been filled with the sloppy, wet sounds of sex but this? This was obscenity on another level. The scene they made was filthy, Galo bent in half with his hands still bound above his head as Lio towered over him, forcing moans and whines out of him like it was their job. As the three fingers finally fully breached him, Galo’s mind exploded with a sense of alarm at the _too much_ , _too full_ sensation of it all. Alarm turned into a flash of panic as he felt what promised to be a truly explosive orgasm building rapidly, too rapidly, coiling hot and mean at the base of his spine as Lio curled their fingers once, twice- 

“Oh god, Lio, oh no, oh _shit_ ,” he managed to choke out before his whole mind went up in a flash of blinding white. He couldn’t hear or see anything as it overtook him, could not process Lio’s satisfied grin and reassurances as he came, spilling all over his own chest. Bent so far back as he was, ropes of his spend caught against his chin and cheek, splattering hotly against his skin. Lio worked him through it, only pulling their fingers free when Galo sobbed and writhed from over-stimulation. Lio freed his hands and laid him out on the messy sheets, licking away the mess from his chest and his now softened cock. Galo had once asked why they did that, why they liked it so much, and Lio had not quite been able to explain. They described it as partly a caring, instinctual thing, and partly a territorial thing, that they wanted to keep of Galo, even this, for themself. Lio had been shy, reluctant to admit that, but Galo found that he did not mind. He wasn’t particularly keen on sharing Lio either.

“Liooo,” Galo fussed, sleepily pushing at their head as they continued to lick at him long after the mess was gone. They only removed themself from between his legs when he gave a sharp yank on a lock of hair indicating that he’d had enough. They hissed at him, annoyed at having been interrupted, but pulled away. “You’re too big in that shape, come lay down,” Galo said muzzily, waving his hand to beckon them up. He rolled onto his side and reached back to pat the bed behind him.

They eyed the sight of his bare ass for a moment as if weighing their options, but ultimately sighed and reluctantly tore themself away. They crawled up the bed to settle that big body down behind him, pulling him close against their chest. They nuzzled at his hair and kissed his neck as Galo sighed contentedly. They rolled their hips as they got comfortable, and Galo gasped as their cock, still massive, still hard, pressed against his ass. “Sorry,” they murmured and drew away, holding their hips back from making contact.

“Do you want…,” Galo said softly. “Do you want me to-?” He made a crass hand motion, which made Lio laugh.

“You’re sweet, but you don’t have to.” Lio cut him off with a kiss to the temple. “I told you I wanted to do that for you. You don’t need to do anything in turn.” 

“I want to though,” he told them, trying hard not to let exhaustion color his voice. Lio snorted a laugh and nipped at Galo’s ear. Galo grumbled and waved his hand to swat them away.

“Look at you, you’re so sleepy. You’ll fall asleep in the middle of it if you try to do anything for me,” they teased, smiling as they worried at his neck with gentle teeth. “Can’t be having that.”

“Mm, no I won’t,” Galo protested as he tried to sit up, only to be unable to escape Lio’s grip. “You could…” He trailed off into an uninterpretable mumble.

“What did you say?” Lio asked, genuinely uncertain as Galo had spoken directly into the pillow.

“You could put it,” he huffed, reaching back to guide Lio’s erection between his thighs. “Here.” The space was slick with saliva and lube, and the pointed head of Lio’s cock slid across the sensitive skin to nudge at his balls. “Come on, Lio,” he breathed, voice deep and sultry. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” 

Lio drew in a shaky breath as Galo pressed his ass back against them. They couldn’t control the snarl that fell from their mouth as their clawed fingers gripped tightly at Galo’s hip as their other arm wound around his shoulders. Galo went easily, letting Lio move him and hold him as they saw fit, sighing blissfully as Lio used his sleepy warm body to chase their own climax. They hadn’t realized how worked up they were, but they felt it now as hot, frenetic energy lanced through them. Every slow, grinding roll of their hips was punching breathy little sighs out of Galo as they thrust into the tight grip of his muscular thighs. The relief of friction made Lio move faster, losing rhythm. Galo spat into his hand and reached down between his legs to stroke saliva over the head of Lio’s cock, further slicking the way. That was what did it, the combination of heat, the slippery slide of skin on skin, and Galo looking over his shoulder at them with a cocksure smile. 

They sank their teeth into the meat of his shoulder as they came, spilling thick and hot between Galo’s thick thighs. Galo cried out from the pain of the bite, but Lio did not let go until the last aftershocks of their climax had left them. They licked over the mark, filled with a smug sense of gratification at seeing their handiwork. Something nasty and possessive curled low in Lio’s belly, deep in that dark place where greed usually lives, as they found themself hoping that it would leave a scar. They liked to think that they had transcended that base part of their nature, but they would be lying if they said that they had. They still had that ugly urge to keep Galo all to themself, to hold him so tightly that he could never get away or leave them. They had come to learn, however, that that was not the way that partnership works. You cannot hold love in your clenched fist, or you will crush it. With love, you can only reach out, and hope that the other person is there to take your hand. Galo had taught them that. The aforementioned human whined like a grumpy baby as Lio tried to make him get up and take a shower. He was sticky and filthy, but he went dead weight and complained as Lio nudged and shoved at him but squawked indignantly as he was lifted bodily from the bed and into Lio’s arms. They carried him to the bathroom and started the water, hot enough to feel relaxing but not enough to sting. Their form had shifted since, and they now looked partially human as they helped Galo get himself clean. He sighed in resignation and let himself be shepherded as Lio helped him out of the shower, dried him off, and put him back to bed. Galo needed the rest, but Lio was reinvigorated. It was time to prepare for the coming days.

\------------------

When Galo finally rejoined the land of the living, Lio was on hands and knees, scrubbing the ever-loving fuck out of the linoleum in the kitchenette. They were the very picture of focus, working over each square with meticulous care, scratching at it with a well-worn toothbrush. There were neat little piles of various objects distributed across different areas of the floor in the tiny apartment, but Galo could not even begin to guess what they were for. The tomes that the two generals had brought were also open to specific pages, marked by grocery store receipts neatly placed between the pages. Galo rubbed his eyes and sat up, squinting at the clock. It was nearing evening, but his body had apparently needed sleep.

“Lio.” Galo croaked, shifting around to get their attention. “What are you doing?” He was vaguely annoyed at having woken up alone, but it wasn’t like Lio had just disappeared. “That better not be my toothbrush.”

Lio looked up at him and gave a little wave. “Nope! It’s mine.”

“Were you planning to use it again or do you have a replacement?” Galo hated that he already knew the answer to this question.

“Gross, why would I use it again? Do you know how dirty this floor is?” Lio made a disgusted face, which made them look even more ridiculous when combined with the yellow rubber gloves and housewife bandana. “Even I know _that’s_ gross.” They pointed at him with the nasty toothbrush and went back to their scrubbing.

“Why the sudden urge to clean?” Galo asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stretching his arms up over his head. He scratched idly at his belly as he got up to rummage through the dresser drawers for basketball shorts or something to wear.

“Rituals require a lot of preparation and these particular rituals will be extremely difficult to pull off,” Lio answered through gritted teeth as they stabbed at a particularly stubborn stain on the laminate. “We can’t afford to make mistakes, and the best way to make sure we don’t make any is to make sure our ritual space is flawless.”

Galo hummed in agreement as he made his way over to kneel on the carpet where the living space met the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

“Not with cleaning. I won’t sleep if I don’t do it myself. Grab the journal and we can work on your pronunciation,” Lio answered gesturing with the toothbrush to where the Hello Kitty journal lay, half-way buried in a stack of other books. “It’s over there.”

Galo leaned to retrieve the journal and began thumbing through the pages. He’d stopped writing in this a long time ago, and he hadn’t looked at it since Lio had started using it for their new purpose. He smiled to himself as he looked at Lio’s handwriting. He’d learned that they were left-handed, which accounted for the ink stains, but they also sometimes wrote with their tail when their hands were busy. He could pick out those sections by eye, as they were noticeably sloppier than their counterparts. Lio had done a lot of work for this, for him. Galo squared his jaw and flipped to the page where the recitation started. Physical cues were written in the margins, along with notes about the purposes of individual phrases and phonetic spelling of words. Lio had tried to think of everything. Galo loved that about them.

“Where should I begin?” he asked, licking his thumb as he gently turned the pages. He took in the multitude of symbols and wished, for the first time, that he was just a little bit smarter.

“Consecration of your circle,” Lio answered now working at the baseboards and making that same disgruntled face. “That will be the most important step. It’s for your own protection.”

“Alright,” Galo grunted. He cleared his throat and began, “ _Ego consecro et benedico-,”_

Lio interrupted him, “Bene-, as in benefit, dee-koh. Try again from the beginning.”

“Does it have to be in Latin?” Galo asked, sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated frown. “I hate Latin.”

“Sorry, it has to be in Latin.” Lio chuckled and shook their head. “C’mon, no complaining. You can do this.”

“Fiiine,” Galo sighed before turning back to the book. He steeled himself, determined not to be discouraged. He took a deep breath and began again. “ _Ego consecro et benedico istum circulum per nominee Dei Altissimi ut sit mihi et omnibus scutum et protectio Dei Fortissimi._ ” He looked up at Lio when he’d finished the sentence. 

Lio was looking at him with a soft, affectionate smile, their eyes full of pride. “Well done. Now, do the rest of it.” And so it went, through the whole paragraph of the consecration and protective circle text. 

By the time the sun had gone down, Galo finally felt confident in his pronunciation of the opening edict. Lio was a good teacher, endlessly patient and passing no judgment. They simply corrected mistakes where he made them and offered praise when he deserved it. Galo found himself wanting more and more of that praise, so he worked harder to earn it. Galo had never been a particularly good student, likely because of his ADHD and inability to focus on things he found boring, but this? This had become fun. He thought of it like a game, and Lio’s smiles and praise were the prize he got for winning. He had laid down on his back with his feet propped up against the wall, holding the book open over his face.

“Well,” Lio said, wiping sweat from their brow. “I think you’ve got that one down. How do you feel?” They glared at a stubborn water stain on the linoleum in front of the sink, picking at it with their claw to see if it would come up. It did not.

“Good. Say, can I ask you something?” Galo asked as Lio stepped over him and into the living area. They nodded as they started to sort through various little packages of pressed flowers and dried herbs, various crystals and pieces of bone as they waited for Galo to speak. “How… How are you going to get the bad guy where we need him?”

Lio smiled, a wicked little thing, and Galo felt his heart flutter. “Diplomacy, of course.”

“Huh?” Galo said intelligently. “How can you be diplomatic with a dude like that?”

“See, that’s the funny part,” Lio explained, giggling as if they were about to let Galo in on an inside joke. “All council members are still bound by the etiquette of the court. Which means that if there is a formal invitation, they would be foolish to refuse.” 

“Okay…” Galo’s eyebrows were so furrowed that he was concerned that they might get stuck that way. Where was Lio going with this?

“A formal invitation cannot be declined. It’s disgraceful and would damage the reputation of the person that declines it. It’s so stupid, but that’s why it’s so funny.” Their mouth was quirked up in a sneaky little smirk, clearly very pleased with themself. “He will be invited to the palace under the guise of a diplomatic dinner. That will be the best way to make sure that he arrives with minimal entourage and only necessary guard.”

“Are you for real?” Galo asked, frowning hard. “That’s got to be a joke. You’re going to invite your mortal enemy to a fucking dinner party?”

“Yes,” Lio said flatly, a little let down by Galo’s lack of enthusiasm. “This way, since I will be the gracious host, I will be at an advantage when I inevitably pick a fight with this asshole.”

Galo rolled his eyes and flopped his arms out to the side. “Seriously? Picking a fight?”

“You know, I really expected you to be more supportive,” Lio scolded him, sulking dramatically. “I put a lot of thought into this.”

Galo sighed and rolled to sit up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me the rest of your plan.”

“Okay, basically the plan is to annoy him into challenging me to single combat. The rules dictate that whoever issues the challenge is not allowed to choose the venue,” Lio sighed, all excitement gone since Galo stole their thunder.

“I swear to god Lio, if you just said single combat-” Galo jumped to his feet, ready to square up and have this fight all over again.

“Chill for a second, Galo-,” they soothed, putting their hands up in a placating gesture. 

“Do _not_ tell me to _chill_ right now, Lio,” he snarled, pointing at them with an accusatory finger. “ _You promised-_.”

“If you’d let me finish,” Lio spoke softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed in order to appear non-threatening. “Listen for just a second, then you can be mad all you want. It won’t actually come down to physical confrontation. We will set the binding to close when we enter the Between space, and that will be that.”

“You’re an idiot,” Galo hissed, now more annoyed than angry. “You really think that it won’t come down to a fight? I find that _extremely_ difficult to believe.”

“I know,” they sighed, rubbing their temples. “I know, but we have limited options, and this seems to be the best way to lure him into the trap without arousing suspicion.”

Galo exhaled in a pissy little huff of breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re right, but I’m still mad about it.”

“That’s fair,” Lio conceded. “It’s not a good plan, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

Galo scowled hard at them for a moment, and then grumbled, “I want to go on the official record saying that this is a stupid ass plan and I hate it.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Lio cooed, clearly trying to weasel out of trouble. Galo found himself softening up as his anger faded, which only irritated him more.

“I swear to god, Lio,” Galo growled as he moved to stand directly in front of them, jabbing a pointed finger at them again. “If you die, I’m going to be _furious_.”

“I solemnly swear,” they recited as they held up one hand and placed the other over their heart. “That if I die, you have permission to resurrect me and kick my ass.”

“Lio, if you die, I will go down there and kick _everyone’s_ ass,” Galo cocked his hip to the side, resting his hands on his waist. Lio suddenly saw an uncanny reflection of Margaret in his behavior. “I will cause a _scene_ for the fucking ages and you will _never_ live it down.”

Lio nodded sagely, patting Galo on the ass. “Yes, dear. Will you forgive me if I order delivery?” 

Galo pouted for a long moment, and his resolve broke completely. “Only if you get Chinese food.”

Lio stood and pressed a kiss to his frowning mouth. “I’ll even get you an extra egg roll.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well fuck me,” Lio said numbly. “Seems like the magic of this realm likes you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. A lot of the magical stuff described here is actually based in real world information and I did a lot of research in hopes of making it the best it could possibly be. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to everyone that comments and leaves kudos. They really mean a lot to me. <3
> 
> \- cap

Galo had a relatively light shift schedule that week, but the universe had apparently chosen that week to grind him into the dirt beneath its stiletto heel. Between practicing the Latin scripts with Lio, helping with the preparation of charm components, and reading up on the ritual from those horrible, enormous books with their stupid, spidery script that still littered their apartment, he’d had little time for real rest. What little free time he did have was spent either maintaining the ritual space or holding on to the bed frame with a white-knuckle grip in an effort to survive Lio’s best efforts to snap him in half. It would have been a massive understatement to say that he was fucking exhausted. It was his last shift of the week, and Lio had sent him on a mission when he went to work that day. He had been tasked with acquiring sidewalk chalk, and he knew that there was a whole box of it that they had used during the last station open house day. He thought that he recalled putting it in his locker, and he set about digging through it to see if he could locate it.

“Hey,” Aina greeted him as she kicked open the door to the locker room, her arms laden down with her duffel and backpack. “How’s it going?”

“Good morning,” he called over his shoulder, continuing his locker excavation as he heard Aina slinging her belongings around. “Fine, thanks. You?”

“Fine. You look like shit, dude,” Aina admonished, poking at his face where it sagged from fatigue. “You running yourself ragged again? Lio keeping you up late?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, an expression which rapidly faded into disgust as he pulled out several half-empty bottles of Muscle Milk, one bottle of regular milk, and a can of spray paint that he had no memory of buying. “Oh my fucking _God_ , Galo.”

“C’mon Aina, cut a guy some slack,” he grumbled, shooing her away. She remained undeterred. He sighed, realizing that this was the signature Aina move: loving yet relentless pestering until Galo broke. “I’ve been up late studying,” he explained as he rummaged through the contents of his locker. He had known it was dirty but he hadn’t known it was _this_ bad. Christ, how did he live like this? Lio would kill him if they got an eyeful of the garbage dump that lived in there.

“Studying?” She stared at him with deep skepticism as he pulled out a wad of convenience store receipts and stuffed them into his makeshift trash bag. “Galo, what could you possibly be studying? We literally had an ongoing bet for the first year and half that you were here about whether or not you could actually read.”

“First of all, rude, Aina,” he said with a self-righteous tone as he warily eyed a Tupperware container full of what was likely once some kind of pasta dish. He was honestly scared to even touch it, so he used some of the paper scraps to scrape it into his garbage pile. “Adult literacy is an issue that disproportionately affects people of color.” He scolded her with all the enthusiasm of a Catholic school nun with a brand-new ruler that needed breaking in. She blinked at him, surprised by his outburst and snorted a laugh, causing him to roll his eyes. “Second of all, shut up,” Galo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and then immediately regretted it as the movement caused the old food container to give off a horrible stench. “Lio has this, uh… extremely obscure hobby... and I thought it was really interesting and I wanted to learn more about it. I guess.”

“A hobby,” she said flatly, still unconvinced. “And what exactly is this hobby? I’m glad to see you finally cleaning out that hell hole you call a locker, by the way. Lucia was worried we were going to end up with rats.”

“Lio’s been making me get better about cleaning,” he explained as he stalled for time, still frantically scrambling to come up with a lie. Everything sounded stupid in comparison to the truth, so he finally gave up and answered lamely, “As for the hobby, we’ve gotten into, uh… nocturnal… bird watching.”

“Nocturnal bird watching?” Aina stared at him incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me with that shit, Galo? That’s the most half-assed lie you’ve ever told.”

Galo felt his ears go red and he snapped defensively, “Well you didn’t give me time to come up with a better one!”

“You’re an idiot,” she sighed with a long-suffering look as she patted him on the shoulder. “But I get it.”

Galo huffed, “You didn’t let me explain! We’ve been-”

She cut him off with a snorting laugh. “I really don’t want to hear about your sex life and whatever other weird shit you and Lio get up to.” She smirked as she continued, “Anyone with a split tongue is bound to be an absolute freak in the sack, though.”

Galo gasped, slapping a hand to his chest as if to clutch at imaginary pearls. “ _Aina_! Don’t say stuff like that at work!” She walked away cackling, leaving Galo alone in the locker room. As he stood there, surrounded by trash and turning over the container of chalk in his hands, he realized that Aina was absolutely right. Lio _was_ kind of a freak in the sack. He smiled smugly to himself as he pretended to slam dunk the trash into the garbage can.

\------------------

After his shift, he went home as usual. Lio was waiting for him, a serious look on their face as they greeted him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, carding his fingers through their messy hair. 

“I made spaghetti,” they answered with a frown.

“Why are you upset about making spaghetti?” Galo pinched at their lower lip where it stuck out dramatically. “Spaghetti is awesome.”

“I don’t think it’s as good as Margaret’s,” they said softly, turning back to poke at the contents of a sauce pot still on the stove.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, wrapping his arms around Lio in a big hug. “You made it, and I’m happy to eat anything you make.” He pressed a kiss to their hair and pulled away with a chuckle as he said, “Well, almost anything. I’m still not convinced you weren’t trying to poison me when you first got here.”

“Hey!” Lio squawked indignantly. “It was _one_ time! You haven’t gotten sick since then!” Galo laughed again and pressed a wet, smacking kiss to their cheek, then danced away as Lio tried to smack him on the arm. “Let’s eat, then we need to go out.”

“Out?” Galo asked, pulling down plates from the cabinet. “Why?”

“You need to practice drawing your circles,” Lio answered, scooping up pasta and carefully arranging it on the dishes. “That’s what the chalk is for. We need to make sure that you get all the shapes right.”

“You realize that people are going to lose their shit and call the cops if we get caught worshipping the devil in the Walmart parking lot, right?” Galo asked, subtly trying to stuff a hunk of garlic bread into his mouth.

“Like people haven’t done worse in a Walmart parking lot,” Lio shot back, snatching the bread from Galo and stuffing it into their own mouth. “Besides,” they continued, talking with their mouth full. “There’s only one devil you’re allowed to worship.” They tried to wink at him, but they just kind of blinked one eye then the other before wandering away to finish preparing the plates as Galo stood there silent, letting his imagination go wild with the potential meanings of what Lio had just said. They walked over next to the recliner and motioned for him to join them. They spent a lot of evenings like this, both of them stuffed into the recliner, wrapped around each other as they ate dinner and watched Netflix. It was Lio’s turn to pick, and they wiggled a little as they settled down in Galo’s lap as he precariously balanced the plates. Lio picked out a gardening show, which was a departure from their usual choices that were usually baking related. 

Lio snarfed down pasta as Galo munched happily on more bread, and it struck Galo that this… was forever. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life, and he thought that it should have been a scary, cosmic moment, but instead it was just a fact. It was what it was, the way they fit together. In any other world, the supposedly parallel lines of their lives would never have met, as is the nature of such things, but by some stroke of luck, or great universal joke, they had wound up together. He found himself looking at Lio, who was looking at the television and was oblivious to Galo’s internal monologue as he took in the sweeping line of their cheekbone, the delicate curve of their chin. “Hey,” he murmured, knocking his forehead against their shoulder. They looked down at him from their perch, half on his lap and half on the arm of the recliner and smiled. They had just stuffed a whole meatball in their mouth, but hey. That was Lio. 

“Hmm?” they chirruped, leaning forward to return the gesture, bonking their forehead against his. Their tail squeezed around his ankle, coiled in its usual spot, urging him to continue.

“I, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat. He wasn’t sure why it suddenly felt so difficult to say it out loud. It wasn’t that he did not know what to say, it was that nothing he could possibly say would ever come close to describing what he felt. How could you describe in words something that big and vast? It was an emotion he was only now learning that he had the capacity to feel, that kind of all-encompassing devotion. It reverberated through him with a viciousness, a fierceness, burying itself into the bone. It enveloped him in the way a wall of sound does when you stand too close to the speakers, no longer able to hear anything distinctly so that it became more of a feeling, summarized by the vibration in your chest. It was not a wave, it was a torrent, it was a flood that filled every crack and corner, smoothing all the edges of him into something that he had not realized was incomplete. No, that wasn’t right. He was a complete person as he was, but this was something extra, something bigger, that made him more than what he had been before. He hadn’t realized how heavy the sadness he had carried was until Lio had shown him how to lay it down. He’d been quiet too long, and Lio was looking at him with concern, but that hadn’t stopped them from stealing a meatball off of Galo’s plate and popping it in their mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head. “Lio, I want you to know that I really, um.” _Shit_ , why was this so fucking difficult? He was an adult! He could communicate his feelings! Why was he choking up now?

“I know,” Lio said gently, setting down their plate and giving Galo their full attention. “I know. It’s hard to put words to it, huh?” They had a smudge of sauce on their chin, because the universe was a joker and nothing about their life together could ever be fully serious for long.

Galo laughed wetly, vaguely irritated with himself that he couldn’t just spit it out. “Yeah. Nothing seems good enough.” Lio kissed his forehead, leaving a little smear of sauce behind.

“Yeah. But I know, and you know, and I think that’s what matters.” Lio pressed close, nuzzling against his cheek. “I feel it, too. I promised you I would be with you, always. That won’t change.”

“Me too,” he murmured, pressing his nose to their collarbone. “Me too.”

\------------------

They held hands as they walked, Lio’s delicate fingers laced through Galo’s own, wandering toward the end of the empty cul-de-sac that Lio had chosen for this practice. They’d left the city and driven out into the suburbs, headed for an area of new development that was deserted during the day after construction had ceased. When Galo had asked why they couldn’t just do the real ritual out there, Lio had shaken their head, explaining that there were too many variables in an outdoor environment. They needed absolute control, and thus would perform the real ritual in the apartment. Chalk could be washed away from the practice space, but the real circle would only be able to be drawn once given the limited materials. They stood in the middle of the street, surrounded by the hollow wooden frames of half-built houses that reached up into the empty sky like half-buried skeletons. There was no light but for the dirty orange light of a streetlamp, casting long shadows that trailed behind them as they set up their supplies. Galo flipped through the journal in search of the protective circle diagram as Lio fished out a stick of bright blue chalk from the box.

“Can’t see a goddamn thing,” Galo grumbled to himself as he squinted at the careful drawings Lio had made. He was briefly startled by the bright flare of white light that flew at his face, centering itself just above his head to cast a halo around him. He looked over at Lio, who smiled at him as sparkler-like flickers of magic still trickled from the ends of their fingers. “Thanks,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to their hair. He walked out into the center of the cul-de-sac and took a deep breath.

“Remember, you might get some flashes of light or sudden wind, but the circle will not be connected to anything real,” Lio said softly, pressing a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

He nodded as he squatted down to the ground. “Yeah, we don’t have all the other necessary materials, so the circle doesn’t know where the other end of the line is. Like if you try to call your number with your own phone.”

Lio frowned, trying to follow the analogy. “Yeah, that’s… actually a really good way of describing it.” They shrugged and nodded, vaguely impressed.

Galo winced a little as his knees complained about being in such a weird position, and he took one last look at the journal before deciding it was time to begin. His heart was beating hard in his chest, his anxiety banging pots and pans together as it marched around in his brain. He placed the tip of the chalk to the ground and began to draw. First, he let his hand sweep along in the careful arc demarcating the edge of the outer circle, careful not to smudge the work once it was done. His movement flowed freely, and he found himself in awe of his own grace. If he had spared a glance up at Lio, he would have seen that their face held an expression of awe and pride, watching his every movement but finding nothing to correct. As the inner concentric circle formed itself, spilling its body forth like a living thing from the end of the chalk, it took shape in his mind. He could see it, and he knew every part of it as if it had been branded into the front of his brain. Absently, he set the book aside and carefully leaned toward the middle, planting his hand firmly in the center to balance himself. The complex symbols streamed out in a steady and constant flow, pressed into the asphalt in jagged slashes and whorls of blue.

The complex lines of the eight-pointed star of creation that composed the center of the Seventh Pentacle of Mars needed to be drawn all in one single movement, and the line had to remain unbroken. He felt sweat beading on his forehead as he moved excruciatingly slow, his eyes tracing the path of the chalk before it had even traveled to its destination. He had to do this right, because when the day came, he’d have to write it in blood. The old texts they had read described the last Pentacle of Mars as something that could provide divine protection against all evil, but Galo wasn’t sure how much stock he put in that. The only thing he really had faith in was Lio, and Lio had selected this pentacle for him. In the center of the star, he drew the symbols for the divine names El and Yiai and began to write around the edge of the pentacle, the verse that it called for. Lio remained silent, doing nothing but providing light for him and their presence as support. He slowly got to his feet, knees clicking as he stood. He had not noticed the wind that picked up, rustling through the trees and kicking up dust as it whipped through the wooden structures of the construction sites surrounding them. 

He stepped into the center of his circle, scanning its parts and carefully checking his work, and began to recite the consecration edict. As he spoke, Lio grinned like a maniac, teeth sharp and glinting in the light as the circle around him lit up in an explosive flash of cobalt light. Galo himself gasped and instinctively took a step back, but Lio raised their hands and steadied him as if he were a spooked horse. The wind was high and howling, tearing at his clothes and at his hair, rattling through all the pages in the journal as he continued the last lines. His voice was torn out of his mouth by its rage, and he could not hear himself speak. The only way that he knew he had spoken at all was from the vibration in his chest, and as the last word fell from his lips, the wind abruptly stopped. He stared stupidly down at the ground for a moment, mouth hanging open before his eyes darted between the crushed stick of chalk in his hand and to Lio. He couldn’t help the single delighted and slightly hysterical giggle that clenched in his chest.

“Well fuck me,” Lio said numbly. “Seems like the magic of this realm likes you.” Galo stared at them, trying extremely hard not to laugh as tears filled his eyes from the strain. He couldn’t hold it in any longer as he took in the sight of Lio’s absolutely ruined hair. It stuck out on all sides and had various types of leaves and debris stuck in it, and they looked slightly dazed. 

When Galo was done with his momentary break from reality, he turned to Lio with wide doe eyes. “Can I step out of the circle now?” Lio grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him down for a sloppy kiss. They grinned into his mouth, beaming with pride. Galo took a moment to catch his breath and stop his hands from shaking, wiping the crumbled chalk from his stained hands onto his dirty jeans.

“Alright,” Lio began. “Now tell me what you need to do next.”

“Next is the binding seal,” Galo answered immediately, grabbing another stick of chalk from the box Lio held out to him. This one was violet purple.

“Uh huh, and what is special about that one?” Lio was quizzing him to make sure he was focused and stayed on task.

“It has to be drawn in reverse,” he replied, picking up the journal to look back at the notes he and Lio had drawn on the page dedicated to the Seventh Pentacle of the Sun.

“Why?” Lio asked, rubbing a gentle hand over his back. He had not realized how tense he was.

“Because the Seventh Pentacle of the Sun,” Galo paused, squinting as he struggled to remember without checking his notes. Lio waited patiently, wanting him to find the answer for himself. “Oh! Because it’s normally used for freeing things from prisons, not for trapping them!”

“Right!” Lio praised, kissing him on the cheek. “Okay, don’t forget that. Not only does the key itself have to be drawn backwards, but all of the spell components have to be placed backwards, too.”

This circle did not come as easy. The lines pushed back against him, resisting the unnatural reversal of their shape. The purple chalk was stubborn and unyielding, almost fussy as he forced it to form the two staple concentric circles that form the outer edges of nearly every pentacle. Even these must be drawn in reverse, following a counterclockwise path from the edge. Next came the two overlapping hourglass shapes, drawn perpendicular to each other, forming a square in the middle. This formed the four Arms of the Cross, and would house the names of the elemental Angels, Chasan for air, Arel for fire, Phorlakh for earth, and Taliahad for water. He had to use the reference book for this one, the names and shapes of the symbols souring in his head as he tried to recall them. Every step of the way, the formation of the reversed circle fought back against him. As he scratched the last of this set of symbols into the pavement, he could feel sweat pouring down his neck and his back ached from his hunched posture. He looked back and forth between the book and the chalk as he drew the names of the four rulers of the elements between the four arms of the cross: Ariel, Seraph, Tharshis, and Cherub. In place of the usual versicle which focused on the breaking of bonds, they had selected a new verse to be written between the two outer concentric circles. The Hebrew letters and rune-like shapes of this line came easier, as they were to be written in their true shape: _Behold, He tears it down, and it cannot be rebuilt; He imprisons a man, and there can be no release._ This was the only part of the circle that could be drawn in the usual way, as they were to be presented according to their direct meaning. 

The Seventh Pentacle of the Sun was finished when he drew the final mark. It was more complicated than it looked at first glance. It was a set of intersecting straight lines that met at a 90-degree angle. Over the point where they intersected and at all of the ends of the lines, were small circles. Each circle was connected to its neighbors by more straight lines, forming the overall shape of a square around the exterior. He stood and watched as the circle came to life. It did not go the way he expected. The outer circles angrily spat out sparks as the air went unnaturally still. Where there once had been the low hum of cicadas, there was nothing. Silence fell over the little cul-de-sac like a heavy velvet curtain, as if the circle was a predator straining its ears for the faintest sound of the movement of its prey. Every muscle in his body went tense as he was suddenly overcome with the extreme and intense certainty that if he moved, something terrible would happen. The blinding white sparks continued to flare as they escalated into a fire, ramping higher and higher in intensity until a blaze bloomed to life. Lio, who had also been frozen, entranced by the scene unfolding before them, snapped out of it abruptly and moved to stomp it out. They scuffed their foot at the chalk in an effort to break up the line of the circle and the flames sputtered out. Galo looked on in shock, and in a distant way, realized that he had been holding his breath. Suddenly exhausted, he sagged and almost fell to the pavement but Lio was there to catch him. They slowly made their way to the ground together, Lio’s strength being all that kept Galo even sitting up.

“Took a lot out of you,” Lio soothed, petting his sweat sodden hair out of his face. “You did so well, I’m so proud.” They pressed a kiss to his cheek, simply holding on to Galo as his ragged breaths slowly returned to normal.

“Lio…” Galo began, pausing to swallow hard against his dry mouth. “Help me stand up?” They struggled to their feet after Galo had caught his breath. He still felt drained, but he had one more circle to practice. He went to fish out a new piece of chalk from the box, but Lio’s hand on his wrist stopped him.

“No more,” they said, looking at him with concern. “You’ll hurt yourself if you try to push it right now. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“When else are we going to have time to practice?” Galo huffed, trying to twist free of the grip.

“We will _make_ time,” Lio gritted out, still holding firm to Galo’s forearm. “Please,” they said, much softer this time. “Let’s go home. You need to rest. We can try again tomorrow.” Galo reluctantly conceded, letting Lio pull his arm over their shoulders as they shuffled back to the car together. Galo barely stayed awake on the ride home, Lio having to nudge him with their sharp little elbows to keep him from nodding off. By some stroke of luck, they made it safely.

When they made it back to the apartment, the haze had settled fully over Galo and his mind was full of static. He felt numb, locked inside his body as if he were watching someone else pilot his body. Lio stripped him out of his clothes and wiped his face off with a wet washcloth. That line of concern was back again, creating a wrinkle between their perfectly manicured eyebrows. They ushered him into bed, plastering their body tight against his bare back as if they could soak up whatever hurts. That was the thing, though. Nothing hurt, he was just… numb. He realized how right Lio was, how far he had pushed himself, but he felt like he gave up. He’d never been a quitter, and he tried not to think about whether or not this made him a failure. Lio seemed to sense his inner turmoil, and stroked his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in the way that they knew he liked. The numbness did not ebb, but it also did not grow. He lay there awake, staring at nothing as Lio held him, unwavering and quiet in their offer of comfort. He did not know when he fell asleep, but he dreamed. In his dream, it was sweltering hot and everything smelled of smoke.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One door closes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, long time no see! This chapter took me a long time to write, and I hope you enjoy it. It's pretty intense, so I have included some trigger warnings for some of the content in this chapter. As always, I have briefly outlined them here, but if you need further info, I have included a full description at the end.
> 
> TW: extended scene including blood and gore (and teeth), self-mutilation, graphic violence, graphic violence involving children, and a potentially dub-con situation. For more information, please see the end of chapter notes. I have updated the tags to reflect these changes.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your continued readership. Your comments and kudos mean the world to me and fuel my writing engines. I hope you enjoy this chapter. We are truly getting into the shit as we approach the end(?) of this fic, so I hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> -cap

Galo briefly cracked open his eyes and was surprised to find that there was no sign of fire in the room. It was still sweltering, and it smelled like something had been recently burning, but there was nothing but the dull glow of the plastic little stars and the small Scooby Doo night light plugged in on the far wall. When had he gotten that? He must have been extremely young, as he barely remembered it. His mind reeled with the clumsy stupidity that comes with deep sleep, unable to right himself within the fog of it. He was drifting, untethered from any semblance of reality, uncertain of what time or what year it was. He dozed lightly as gentle waves of sleep pulled him in and out of awareness. The nerves that wound their way through his scarred arm tingled with a static buzz. There was a noise that caused him to float back up to the surface of consciousness. The old brass doorknob squeaked as it turned, and the door itself cracked open and creaked at is swung inside. He vaguely processed the slow sound of socked feet picking their way carefully across the carpet. He knew that he was not alone, but the alarm bells of his mind had not yet rung. 

His eyelids fluttered as he tried to look around and take in his surroundings, but he was so tired, and they were so incredibly heavy. He wanted to give in, to succumb to the steady tide of sleep and let it carry him off. He would have, but the low hum of the pain in his nerves ramped up even higher, refusing to be ignored, as the edge of the bed shifted beneath the weight of a body. Thin fingers with long, manicured nails gently ran through his hair and over his scalp, soothing and gentle as the visitor tried to hush him back to sleep. That was something his mother used to do when he was very, very young. She would soothe him when he was in the throes of restlessness, petting his hair and holding him to her chest until the deep vibrations of her soft singing lulled him back into slumber. A waft of fading perfume followed the visitor’s movement, a vaguely familiar scent that his mind barely remembered. All the same, it was hers. He had no doubt.

“Mom?” His voice was gravelly from the dry heat of the room. He was still disoriented, weighed down by sleep. He finally forced his eyes to open and his heart leapt in his chest when he saw her looking back at him. He was beholding yet another impossible thing, but there she was. She looked the same as she did on the last day of her life, the last time Galo had seen her. The soft crinkles of laugh lines at the corners of her mouth stood out more sharply in the low light, but the color of her eyes was as brilliant as he remembered. He had not realized how much he looked like her until he saw her again. The curve of her chin and the shape of her nose were the same as his own and he was overcome by a sense of deep gratitude at being allowed to see his mother again, even for a moment. She was dressed in the soft pajamas she always favored, the ones with little lambs on them that Galo had picked for her birthday one year. Her wild hair hung long and loose over her shoulder, and she leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead with dry, chapped lips before she sat back again. She reached for his hand, taking it in both her own. 

“Mom?” He asked again, this time in awe as he realized what he was looking at. Like all his dreams did, it felt so incredibly real. The prickling feeling that had settled into his arm flared bright and piercing at her touch. Her hands were cool, too cool, but he was lost as he felt a rush of joy as she smiled at him. Her expression was soft, open and loving, as she rubbed her thumbs over the back of his hand, pressing gently into the little muscles there.

She opened her mouth to speak, but only a long, low rasping groan came out, grating and ugly like the grind of long dead machinery brought to life after years of disuse. It made goosebumps break out on Galo’s skin, as he felt the sudden and urgent need to run. She leaned forward over him, craning her head to the side so far that he heard the tendons pop as they snapped taut against the vertebrae of her neck. Her brow furrowed in an expression of disbelief and concern, as if her body was moving against her will. Her lips moved as if she was trying to say something, but she hiccupped as a splash of shadow poured out instead of words. It dribbled down her chin and stained her teeth black. She lifted his hand to her face, pressing his index finger to her forehead. A small crack appeared in her forehead where he had touched, spider webbing across the smooth expanse of her skin. Her wide, glassy eyes stared at him, fixed but unseeing as they both listened to the deep, wet sounds of the shifting bone beneath. She reached up with a delicate hand and touched her own finger to the place where the crack had originated. She began to jam her fingers into the crack, digging her fingernails into the opening to pry it apart and make it wider. A visceral ripping sound made Galo’s teeth ache and his stomach churn as she pulled at the delicate muscles of her face, gouging at her own skin, all while maintaining a crushing grip on his fingers. Galo felt dizzy as he watched her pull her hand away from the wound. The flesh beneath peeled away, blood and torn muscle fibers sticking to her fingers as the outermost layers of skin fell away in meaty chunks. 

Inside the now golf ball-sized hole in her forehead, he had expected to see the wrinkled lobes of her forebrain, considering how deep she had dug. Instead, embers flared to life as they were exposed to the oxygen of the room and heat rolled off her in waves. Her skin cracked further as the embers ignited into a full burn beneath her damaged flesh. Wordless noise hissed out of her mouth again, demanding that he look, forcing him to look at her as she was incinerated from the inside out. Her fingers dug into his hand even harder as her skin began to bubble and blister, first reddening then turning black as the heat cooked her from the inside out. Portions of her cheekbone and chest dropped in as a sinkhole formed in the bone beneath, crumbling away into nothing. She leaned over him, her eyes now alive and wide with terror as the subcutaneous fat in her cheeks dripped onto the bedding, melting from the heat. The globe of her left eye began to lose its shape, becoming soft as viscous fluid began to run from them. The liquified vitreous sizzled in the heat, pooling within the wounds on her face, coating them like lacquer for preservation. Galo squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to witness this horror unfold. It was just a nightmare, he reassured himself. Just a nightmare, but he still whimpered as her touch receded and the horrible crunching and sloppy sounds of sloughing flesh ceased. The room was utterly silent as the seconds dripped by. He waited, counting slowly to sixty in his head and measuring his breath. He steeled himself, deciding that when he opened his eyes, he would be awake. He would be awake in his real bed, in his real apartment, lying next to Lio. 

He opened his eyes again, but he knew that he was not awake. He was still in that forsaken bedroom, the vile place deep in his mind that was a trap built just for him. He tried again, again, opening his eyes and squeezing them shut again, desperate to wake up. He could not escape it, not like this. This place was a steel-toothed footfall trap and it bit into his brain with a hunger that would not be sated until it consumed him, bones and all. His rapid spiral into despair was disrupted as the air was knocked out of his chest when a dense, heavy weight dropped down hard onto his chest. His eyes flew open as he tried to suck in a breath, and he saw it. The rather small, shadowy creature that sat cross-legged on his chest and belly held his face in its hands, forcing him to look at its now vague and formless face. It stared hard at him with its many-eyed gaze, and he could feel an itch as it probed at him. It was looking for something, seemingly sorting through his memory for specific files. Whatever this creature was, it knew things. It could see people he loved and worried for. Things that he had loved and lost, or he feared that he would lose. It could read him, drink up his thoughts like wine. That was what it wanted, he realized. It was feeding off of his fear, his love, and was using it to guide the forms it took in order to hurt him the most. Its skin rippled and became smooth as it shifted into a familiar form. The thing that was not Aubrey now wore her face so convincingly that had Galo not just seen it change, he would have believed its disguise. He stared at it hard, checking its work for flaws, but as far as he could tell the even placement of Aubrey’s smattering of freckles was accurate. 

She smiled at him and giggled, a high wind chime of a sound as she gripped his chin hard with her small, pale hands. She jabbed her fingers into the corners of his jaw, and he thought back to how Lio’s lieutenant had done the same thing before they had possessed him. He had hated that feeling, the complete and absolute helplessness of being unable to reliably pilot his own body. He wanted to fight it, but his muscles were locked up, banded tight as steel against his bones. He might as well have been bound in chains, for all the good his body could do him now. The creature, dressed up in Aubrey’s tiny form, jabbed its fingers in harder until its nails left leaving little crescent moon marks in his skin. Finally, he yielded against her strength, disproportionate as it was to the size of her body. When his mouth opened, she hooked her fingers behind his bottom teeth, wrenching his jaw open as wide as it could go. Her other hand, small and pudgy with baby fat, reached into her own mouth and pinched at her front tooth. Her eyes danced with mirth as she held his gaze, but that glee quickly turned frenzied and manic as she began to twist the little tooth from her gums. It came free after several hard yanks and twists, the roots and gums giving way with little pops as it came free of the surrounding tissue. As she reached toward him, Galo realized what she was going to do, and he tried to wiggle free. He whimpered and whined as his body did not cooperate, trapped within himself as always when she dropped the bloody incisor, exposed root and all, into his open mouth. He coughed and sputtered as he tried to spit it out, but he could not turn his head or close his mouth far enough to get rid of it. She pinched his nose with her free hand, cutting off his breath until he was forced to either swallow the tooth like a gory little pill, or suffocate. Desperate for air, he finally swallowed it. It gouged against his esophagus as it traveled down his throat.

She continued to hold his mouth open, his jaw aching as he fought against her iron grip as she pinched her other front tooth in her fingers and gave a single, powerful jerk. As it came loose, blood spattered Galo’s face and his tongue where his mouth still hung open. It ran freely from the now empty craters in her jaw and began to drip down her chin to pool on the powder blue nightgown she wore. Fat red droplets soaked into the fabric, leaving it soiled and ruined as she fed him another one of her teeth. The strength of her hold on his face never wavered or lessened, and her onslaught never ceased as she continued on to the next tooth. She skipped the lateral incisor, aiming instead for the sharp point of a canine. This one took more effort and her brow furrowed in concentration as she began trying to wrench the dogtooth free. When it did not budge, she clawed at the surrounding gum line with her broken nails. She worked at it with a viciousness, the mechanical efficiency of a surgeon debriding a gangrenous wound. Galo’s own jaw was aching fiercely, his facial muscles screaming with the strain of his drawn-out fight against her. 

Finally, she peeled the tissue back to expose the gleaming white bone beneath as sticky trails of thick, red-laced saliva dangled in viscous strings from her open mouth. Her lip was curled back in a snarl as she tilted her head and leaned toward him, determined to make him watch as she prodded at the place where tooth met jaw. The shredded meat of her gums hung in fibrous strands, irreparably damaged and permanently separated from the bone. She worked a dirty fingernail into the seam, a foul crunching sound filling Galo’s ears as she forced her way into the socket. It was cruel, the way that the creature was making him watch this scene unfold, watch his six-year-old sister mutilate her own face. Another whip-sharp crack sounded, and Galo felt it in his own teeth as she wrenched the eye tooth free. Threads of the flesh surrounding the root clung onto it as she dragged it out of its home. She pinched it between her fingers, holding it up for him to see. She smiled at him, her wide eyes crazed. He sobbed as he tried to look away or move, willing himself to wake up, to escape, to be free of this as he felt the gouge of her pointed nails against the floor of his mouth. He almost wished that it would hurt him physically, but Lio had once said that only weak or lesser demons will attack the body. They had said that for demons, the best and most succulent meals came from psychological fear. Fear of pain was one thing, but it was nothing compared to the addictive nature of feeding on fear derived from total and complete despair as their victim crumbled beneath the weight of their mental anguish. He whimpered like a beaten dog as he cowered beneath the creature, desperate to shrink away, to disappear entirely so that he would not have to endure yet even more torture. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to scream. What came out was the howl of a dying animal as she dug her fingers further into his soft palate. He-

He came awake all at once, gasping for breath as he broke through the molasses-thick surface of the nightmare. He reached a shaking hand up to touch his face and realized that he had been crying. He flopped back into the bedding hard, urging himself to shake it off and go back to sleep. Lio stirred beside him, rolling over to take him in their arms. Their sleepy warmth soothed him as they made soft shushing sounds, rocking him gently in their skinny and entirely human arms. After a while, when Galo still could not settle down, they tried to distract him. They gently rolled him onto his back and threw a leg across his hips. Straddling him with their lithe legs, they began to work soothing little circles into the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders. He groaned as he started to unclench and relax beneath their firm touch, and he was embarrassed to find that his body had gotten ahead of him. He was hard against the lush curve of their ass where they sat in his lap, and he started to stammer an apology. They gave him that trademark smirk, tracing the forked tip of their tongue across their pointed teeth as they rolled their hips to grind against him. He gasped, reaching out with still trembling hands to grab at their narrow waist. They started to put on a show of tracing their hands over their own body, running over their chest and belly over the big t-shirt they wore to sleep in. 

Their fingers caught the hem of the shirt and they slowly pulled it up over their head, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin. They leaned close and caught his mouth in a heated kiss, stroking their tongue over his lower lip and nipping at it with those pointy little teeth. They sat back atop him, grinding back on him again as they moved to rest a pointed finger at the notch between their collar bones. The blunted nail shifted fluidly into a wickedly sharp claw, and they drew it across their collarbones in an even slit, then down the center of their body in a slow, deliberate motion. The sickle-shaped claw may as well have been a scalpel blade, because it parted flesh in its wake as if it were nothing. A thin line formed over Lio’s sternum, leaving beads of blood behind it. The claw trailed down over the smooth, soft skin of their belly and stopped just above the elastic band of their underwear. They rocked back against him as they did this and gave rolled their hips in a particularly filthy way as they wedged their fingers into the neat laceration they had made. He moved to grab their wrist to stop them, and he felt a strange sense of wrong when their skin did not spark for him. Still, he was overcome by panic at seeing the injury and he tried to sit up. As Galo watched this, he felt his heart fall into his guts as he realized that he was not where he thought he was. This was not his bed. This was not Lio. This was not even real. He had stepped sideways out of one nightmare and into another. As he struggled, he could only watch as they peeled the crisp corner of the wound away, stripping flesh away from the muscle and fascia beneath. The sound it made was almost beyond description, like a mixture of the sound packing tape makes when you unroll it too quickly, and the wet, dull sound of meat yielding to the blow of a cleaver. The flesh beneath was red and glistening, steaming in the suddenly cold air of the room as they undressed from their own skin. It hung in grotesque flaps, framing each side of their belly as they began to work at the muscle layers of their abdomen. 

He scrambled, trying to get away, to do anything that would create space between him and this sly creature, but it was as if Lio suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. They only got lighter when he stopped moving and held still, but when he fought it, he felt like his pelvis was going to be crushed beneath the pressure. He cried out as they ground down against him again to drive the point home, and he surrendered to it. With that much pain, there was no way he could keep fighting. He felt betrayed, angry that this thing continued to wear the faces of people he loved in order to torture him. He glared at the monster, eyes alight with fury. It let out a low, raspy laugh as it smiled in amusement at his helpless rage. Pinned beneath its weight, he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled up at it, still defiant even in his defeat. 

“ _Oh, are you shy?_ ” it teased. The sickly-sweet imitation of Lio’s voice was deeply flawed and crude, sounding more like windswept dead leaves tumbling along a sidewalk. “ _It’s no fun if you aren’t scared_.” It worked its fingers further into the slit it had made in its belly, no longer gentle or trying to draw it out. It needed shock and awe, and Galo, pissed off as he was, was not giving it what it needed. 

“Fuck you,” he spat, first verbally and then literally. A glob of tacky saliva splattered against the creature’s cheek, against Lio’s cheek, and it threw its head back in deep laughter. 

“ _How cute, you’re not even going to cry? Come on baby, give us a good scream,_ ” it mocked, words getting to Galo in a way that he had sworn that he would not allow. How dare something so low, something so vile try to wear Lio’s face? He spat at it again, refusing to speak lest that encourage the creature further. It tutted at him, and yanked at the two flaps of abdominal muscles, filling the room with a nauseating tearing sound and the revolting smell of viscera. “ _After all that, not even a whimper? Not even a little one? Come on, sweetheart, give it up already,_ ” it murmured, craning down to lick sloppily at the tear tracks on his face. As it leaned forward, the blood hot ropes of intestine spilled out of the maw of its body cavity. The lengths of fibrous tissue slid and wound over each other like snakes, pouring out of Lio’s, the thing’s, gut like they could not wait to escape. He started up at the ceiling unseeing, willing his mind to leave his body.

Galo finally screwed his eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to whimper or scream, but in his mind, he called for Lio. He shouted their name into the void, hoping beyond hope that it would be heard across planes or whatever else it needed to traverse in order to reach the real Lio. Only a few seconds dripped by, but it felt like a nightmarishly long time as he waited to see if his call would be answered. The door did not just open, it was blasted in. It was nearly ripped off its hinges as Lio, Galo’s Lio, stalked into the room. Their pale eyes scanned the room and immediately locked on the creature, and they began to close in. Galo could sense the creature’s fear as it realized exactly who was approaching, and its eyes went wide at Lio’s purposeful stride. Lio’s mouth hung open in a hateful snarl, showcasing every single razor-sharp tooth they had as their palpable fury filled the air. Pink and blue flames fell off of them in showers as they moved to seize the creature, and lightning-like crackles of electricity arced around and between their horns. To the demon, Lio was a terrifying visage to behold, but to Galo, they looked like salvation. 

The creature cowered before them, trying to make itself as small as possible while throwing itself off of Galo to scramble back toward the foot of the bed and into the corner. Its body looked warped as it tried to change shape while it moved, still dragging the trail of organs behind it. It no longer looked human, and Galo felt sick to his stomach as he looked upon the thing that had pretended to be Lio. It moved on all fours with a digitigrade posture, but its gait was lurching and drunken. Its front legs were too short, and its rear legs were too long, but all were tipped with cloven hooves that clicked when it walked. Its eyes were housed in two cavernous sockets, each containing eight small eyes instead of one, but its nose had no cartilage to speak of. Its breath gusted out through a gaping cavity in its face, the bones barely covered by thin, leathery skin. Patchy, stringy hair hung from the top of its head and down its neck in a sad-looking crest, but what really made this creature horrifying was its mouth. The vertical slit was lipless, but it was instead composed of interlocking tendrils that each moved of their own accord. They opened and closed like interlacing fingers, exposing the rodent-like incisors within. The teeth were yellowed and far overgrown, the malocclusion so severe that its teeth punctured its own face when it closed its mouth. They clacked against each other as its mouth opened and closed uselessly, filling the space with an ugly chattering sound. Cornered and pinned by Lio’s relentless approach, the creature began to whimper and whine as it tried to make itself even smaller. Galo lay there still, trying to control his breathing. He tried not to think about how sticky his skin was, or that it had tortured him for who knew how long. It had put its hands on him, and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought. Lio looked at him, as if asking for permission to deal with this piece of trash. Galo hesitated only for a moment, then nodded.

Lio did not ask twice. With brutal speed, they lashed out and struck at the creature with a kick that connected with its ribs. The sound of the impact was dulled by the demon’s body mass, but Galo heard a sharp snapping sound that signaled that something had broken. It cried out in pain, shrill and ear-piercing as it fell prone. Lio lifted one foot, and pressed it against the lesser’s temple, grinding its face into the floor. As they applied more and more pressure, whimpers and cries of pain escalated into screams of complete agony as the sharp claws on Lio’s toes also began to dig into its flesh. Galo closed his eyes and started counting. He tried to distract himself by seeing how far he could get. It was something he often did when he was anxious or otherwise in an unpleasant situation, and it helped keep him calm. Bored of trying to squish the lesser into a pulpy mess, Lio reached down and dragged it upright by its lank hair. They held it up to their face and hissed at it, making sure to bare all their teeth in a threatening display.

“Tell me how you got here,” Lio demanded, voice hard and cold. “I will not ask you a second time.”

“ _I’m sorry lord, I did not know this one was yours,_ ” it babbled, simpering as it tried to appeal to Lio for mercy. It would find none. The creature keened as Lio yanked at their hair sharply, forcing it to snap out of its terror and answer. “ _There is a pocket door,_ ” it whimpered, trying hard to hold still and not fight against Lio’s hold. Its legs kicked uselessly in the air as Lio hoisted it higher.

“Where is it,” came the obvious question. Lio’s voice was venomous and authoritative, disinterested in anything other than the answer.

“ _Put me down and I’ll show you_ ,” it begged, flailing an arm in a general indication of the room. Lio’s hands tightened in its hair, then they shifted their grip to hold onto its scalp by digging in their claws. “ _Ah! I’m serious! I can only show you, if you don’t already know where it is then you won’t be able to find it!_ ” 

Lio growled low in their throat, and abruptly released the creature. It landed bodily on the floor in an unceremonious heap, fracturing one of its rear legs in the process. It hurried to scramble to its feet as to avoid incurring Lio’s wrath. “ _It’s over here, behind the shelf._ ” It scuttled across the floor with a limp, struggling not to drag the injured leg behind it. “ _Ah, here,_ ” it said, indicating a small object that was tucked behind the bookcase. Sliding it forward, Lio reached down to grab the thing, clutching it tight in their fist.

“If there are more openings, you should tell me now,” Lio instructed. There was no gentleness, no kindness at all in their words. 

“ _No, that’s all there is. It was just the one,_ ” the creature panted, wincing as accidentally put weight on its injured leg. It edged away from Lio, trying to make for the door. “ _I’ll just, uh, be going now…_ ” 

It nearly made it to the door, and Galo thought for a fleeting moment that it might just survive its encounter with Lio. His demon watched its desperate crawl, keen eyes focused and appraising as they watched the lesser make its way toward freedom. This was not giving it a head start, this was a cat toying with a doomed mouse, this was false hope. Just as they were about to reach the open door frame, Lio stomped viciously on the long bones of its fractured leg, breaking them outright. The creature screamed and fell hard on its side, trying to tuck its broken limb up toward its chest to protect it from further onslaught. As it writhed and tried to drag its body toward the door, Lio forced it onto its belly and pinned it in place with a bony, scaled knee pressed into the center of the creature’s back. Their eyes glowed faintly as they looked to Galo again, asking for permission to dispatch the thing with extreme prejudice.

“L-,” he stopped himself, remembering what Lio’s redheaded general had told him about names. “Get rid of it. I don’t care how. Just take me home.” He held his head in his hands, unable to hold back the wave of nausea that crested in his head and his belly. His vision swooped for a moment and he realized he was salivating, long drooling strands hanging from his lips. He was going to be sick.

“Close your eyes,” Lio warned as they stood up. Galo pressed his hands over his ears as he closed his eyes and curled in on himself.

Lio loomed tall over their quarry, it wailed in fear, but it did not beg. They supposed that even a cockroach may have even a little bit of dignity. Lio’s fire crackled and spat, its agitated energy betraying the detached coolness of their facial expression. Electricity still arced between their horns, proportional to the dull roar of their rage. They stooped and picked the creature up by the neck, seizing it by the throat in a crushing grip. Their other hand was still clenched tight, holding whatever object the demon had indicated behind the bookcase. The lesser’s breath became raspy as it wheezed, but it could do nothing but scrabble weakly against Lio’s hands as the pressure increased. The muscles in Lio’s arms tensed for a fraction of a moment, and then it was over. In an instant, the thing’s miserable little life had been snuffed out. Although it was violence, it did not feel like violence. It was quick, which was more kindness than a monster like that deserved. Still, it was unnerving to see such a thing be done by Lio’s hands. With a flick of their wrist, the creature’s neck snapped, cleanly severing its spinal cord and leaving its head to hang at an unnatural angle. It instantly went limp and heavy like a ragdoll, suspended as dead weight for a brief moment before it disintegrated into drips of shadow. 

Lio went to Galo immediately, scooping him close to their chest and spiriting him away and into the waking world.

\------------------

Galo awoke in a cold sweat, feeling sick as hell and like he’d been gargling sand. Lio still held him, sitting on the bed with him in their lap. They leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of water that they had apparently placed there for such an eventuality. They pushed his hair off of his sweaty forehead and smiled, soft and a little sad.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t get there faster,” they murmured, lips pressed against his temple. “I am so sorry that it touched you. It will never hurt you again.” Their arms tightened around him a little further, and Galo could feel scales digging into his skin. 

“I know,” he replied, voice low and hoarse. “It’s not your fault.” He nuzzled against them, desperate to pull them closer, desperate to feel anything but filthy after his last encounter with the demon. “It was horrible. It pretended to be you.” They sighed as he reached up and rubbed the pointed tip of an ear. He pet idly at their cheek, trying to find words to explain what he had been through. 

“I should have been there to protect you.” Lio’s anger was tinged with sadness and regret. They hated the helplessness they had felt at that moment, overcome by their inability to protect Galo from even a lesser demon. What worth did they have if they couldn’t even do that?

Galo could tell that Lio was upset, but he was not present enough to really process it. A minute ticked by as they sat there in silence, Galo tucked up against Lio’s body. They hadn’t changed back into humanoid form, still holding onto the power that they felt when in their truest form. 

They cleared their throat. “Do you want the good news, or the bad news first,” they asked, but it was not really a question. Good was a relative term, and in this case, it meant ‘slightly less bad news’. Galo hummed, noncommittal because he could sense Lio’s tension. They pressed a kiss to his temple, before making the decision for them both.

“Good news is that,” they paused, shifting Galo’s weight so that he wasn’t sitting on the bones of their legs. “Good news is that we’ve found the other doorway, and you likely won’t have to worry about nightmares anymore.” They held out their hand and dropped an object into his palm. Galo could best describe it as a marble, but it was clearly much more than that. It was smooth and perfectly spherical, not a single flaw showing in its glassy surface. It was far heavier than it looked, as if it possessed its own gravitational pull. It was black in color, but from a certain angle, if the light was right, the doorway could be seen. At that special angle the doorway appeared as a spiraling vortex, laced through the center of the marble like dichroic silver threads. The marble had that slight electric feel that all magic had, as Galo was coming to learn.

“This is a doorway?” Galo asked curiously, turning the marble this way and that, trying to see into it. “It doesn’t look like anything important.”

“That’s the point. A well-made doorway does not draw attention to itself,” Lio lamented, sighing again as they scrubbed hand over their face. “Now that we know what it looks like, we should keep it some place secure. But now, the bad news.”

“You have to leave. You’ve fulfilled your contract.” Galo already knew what they were going to say, and he didn’t want to hear them say it. He said it himself, as if that would lessen the blow. “That was part of the deal, I guess,” he muttered. “Can you… Can you at least stay until morning?”

Lio nodded, squeezing him even tighter. They were reluctant to let him go, just as he was reluctant to let them leave. “Yeah,” Lio whispered, laying them both down. They curled around him, pressing as close as possible. Galo buried his face in their neck, determined not to cry as he felt their tail wrap tight around his legs. 

They lay awake for a long time, listening to each other breathe, each unwilling to speak lest they bring morning on faster. Lio’s hands traced over him, as if they hoped to erase the aftermath of what Galo had endured. They could not, but the effort was appreciated.

Eventually, the sun rose, as it always does. Galo felt his heart sink as the first rays of dawn began to creep through the slats of the blinds. He knew that Lio felt it too, by the way they were practically crushing him as they held him. They drew a shuddering breath and pulled Galo to sit up with them. They sat cross-legged across from each other, Galo looking up at Lio, still in their demonic state. They cupped his cheek in their hand and stroked their thumb over it.

“Remember what you need to do. It will be okay,” Lio promised, hoping that it was not a lie. “I’ll send one of my generals to assist you if I can spare them. Regardless, one of them will come to update you regarding our exact plans, but we should be ready in two days.”

Galo nodded, but his eyes were unfocused. “I’m scared, Lio,” he admitted quietly. “I’m scared I’ll do it wrong or I’ll mess up so badly that I won’t ever see you again.”

“Galo,” they breathed, tipping his chin up to look at them. “I searched for you through two realms, over the course of a decade. I will find my way back to you. What’s the phrase your mom likes to use?”

“Come hell or high water,” Galo answered, huffing a half-hearted laugh.

“Come hell or high water,” Lio repeated, kissing him lightly. “I will come back.” They tried to smile comfortingly, but it just looked sad.

“Yeah,” Galo answered, half choking on the word as the lump in his throat grew bigger. He coughed to try to disguise it. “If you die, I’m gonna be so fucking mad, Lio. I’m serious.” He laughed wetly as he wiped a tear from his eye.

They chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. They pressed a kiss to his forehead, his nose, his lips. “I’m sorry,” they murmured against his skin. “I’m so sorry I have to leave you right now, but I know you can do this. I know you can.”

Galo tried to tell himself that this was not goodbye, that this was just ‘I’ll see you soon’, or ‘I’ll see you later’, but it felt so heavy, so final as he watched Lio stand and walk toward the door of the apartment. A jagged crack appeared in the wood, yawning wide to form the mouth of a portal. The gateway sparked and flickered as Lio hesitated, standing there for a long moment. He tried to give them what he hoped was a reassuring smile as they looked back over their shoulder, but it fell from his face the second that they stepped through. 

The room was silent except for Galo’s breathing as he let himself fall back onto his side. The small studio apartment that had finally come to feel like home was too quiet, too big without Lio’s presence. Two days, he told himself. Two days. He could make it two days. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Galo has an extended nightmare induced by a shape-shifting demon. The demon first takes on the shape of his mother, and he watched her die again as her face burns and melts from the inside out. The demon changes form, and takes on the shape of Aubrey, Galo's six-year-old foster sister. She rips her own teeth out and makes him swallow them. Finally, when Galo is convinced that he has woken up, Lio starts to get fresh with him in an effort to distract him. Soon, Galo realizes it is not Lio, as the demon begins to self-mutilate as it had in its other forms. The demon uses some teasing language that can be interpreted as sexual. The real Lio arrives, and kills the demon.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me four tries to write. I hope you all enjoy it and are staying safe out there in the wild ass world we live in. Your kudos and comments are always appreciated. They really do keep me writing. I apologize for any mistakes I have missed, and will fix them as soon as possible.
> 
> \- cap

Lio’s absence settled over Galo like a fog. It spread into every corner of the tiny apartment, sinking into every fiber of the carpet and climbing up the walls like choking vines. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own breathing. It was like sitting in the mouth of a trap, waiting for it to swallow him. He needed to get out. He could not stay there, not while the house was this quiet, this empty. He pulled out his phone and wrote a text to Aina.

She replied with the cowboy emoji for some unknown reason that Galo did not quite understand, so he sent back the beer emoji. He shook his head as he clicked the screen off then set the phone down on the nightstand. Knowing that there was a countdown clock made it easier to force himself to move. He wanted to lay there, to wallow and let the ugly feelings that came in the aftermath of such a traumatic experience drown him. He wanted to rage but instead, he decided that it was better not to be alone. Dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled toward the bathroom. He could still smell the creature’s blood in his nose, but it was not real. Right? It was a dream, and therefore it wasn’t real... But the demon was real. The demon and the terrifying helplessness it had brought with it were very, very real. He felt like he’d been through something serious, but how could he resolve what he felt with what he knew of the world? His stomach flipped as he pushed down the memory of the creature wearing Lio’s face.

He tried to brush the whole thing off as he brushed his teeth, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of dread that followed him. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he looked old, like that single nightmare had aged him terribly. Truthfully, it probably had. He could feel his head starting to hurt, a dull ache forming behind his eyes and radiating into his temples as he took in his reflection. The deep purple bags that he thought he had outrun were back, carving themselves into the spaces beneath his eyes. There were wrinkles now where there previously had been none. He just looked… tired. Again. Perhaps he had still been this tired. Perhaps it had not gone away in the first place, but Lio’s presence had only masked the ache. He moved to turn on the shower, knobs squeaking as he turned on the faucets. He sighed heavily as he leaned closer to the mirror, taking in the sight. Had he always looked so damaged? He used to take such good care of himself, or so he’d thought. When had he stopped? He thought he had gotten better at it, now that he had energy again. Had he really improved at all? He swallowed down that nasty bitter feeling as he got angry at himself. He felt weak in that moment, embarrassed at how much he had come to rely on Lio in order to feel any sense of normalcy. He hated that he fell apart the second he was alone, not stable enough to be able to even function.

He had half-expected his face to be bloody or wet with saliva. It never was after nightmares like that, but he always felt dirty as the stinking grime of fear sweat clung to his body. He stripped out of his boxers, leaving them on the floor as he stepped into the shower. The water was just on the wrong side of cold, but that was alright. The initial shock of it forced him back into his body, back into the present and out of his head momentarily. He washed his hair, staring at the white subway tiles with unfocused eyes as he tried to remember the last time he’d had a haircut. Dazed as he was, he realized that he had been rubbing conditioner into his hair instead of shampoo. He sighed and decided that he simply did not have the capacity to care and that his hair would just have to deal with it for the day. Mustering up as much energy as he could, he scrubbed at himself with the washcloth until the skin shone pink and raw. The clean scent of soap had covered up the metallic smell of blood, and he exhaled in relief when it did not return after he rinsed his body. He turned the water off, lingering in the tub as water rolled down his skin. He dried himself mechanically, not bothering to do more than rub a towel over his wet hair. He pulled it into a bun at the back of his head and dragged on some clothes. He rooted around in the tangle of blankets on the bed and pulled a hoodie free. It was the one of his that Lio usually wore around and sometimes slept in, and it still smelled like them. He pulled it on and pressed the cuff to his nose, breathing it in. He rolled his eyes at himself after a long moment, feeling a little pathetic when he realized he was standing there huffing his partner’s stinky sweatshirt. 

His phone buzzed, vibrating across the nightstand where he’d left it. It made a low thunk as it danced off the edge of the side table, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and took a deep breath. This day was a shit show already, and it was hardly even noon. Still, when he picked the phone up, he did not have to check it to know that it was Aina. He collected his wallet and keys, quickly touching a hand to the little crayon drawing they had tacked to the wall before he left. He locked the door behind him and made his way to the vehicle. He scowled at the sun, cursing it for being too goddamn bright as he let himself in the passenger side door. He could feel Aina staring at him, trying to read his mind in the way that she always did. He wished that for once, she could just let something go. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him over the top of her dark aviators, sizing him up. She sucked air through her teeth as she took in his haggard appearance.

“You look like a man that could use a drink,” Aina remarked casually, shifting the car into gear. 

“A woman after my own heart,” he replied drily, slumping down in the seat. He pulled his own sunglasses down off his forehead and leaned his head against the window.

“Shall I put on Welcome to the Black Parade for you or would you prefer to be silent and emo on this car ride?” she teased, subtly trying to prod him into talking. 

“First of all, I can do it myself,” he retorted, rolling his eyes as he picked up the aux cord. “And second of all, shut up. You know that album still slaps.”

“Whatever,” she snorted, guiding the car out onto the main road and toward the edge of the city.

“Whatever yourself,” Galo shot back, scowling. He stuck his tongue out at her before scrolling through his playlists. He smirked to himself when he found the one he was looking for. “You and I both know that you used to listen to Dashboard Confessional on repeat. Don’t act all high and mighty,” he snarked, as he clicked play. 

Aina immediately groaned as the first few bars of I’m Not Okay began to play. “Come on Galo, you _know_ I hate this song so much!” 

“What?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “Aina, this is a classic piece of music! You don’t appreciate art. Fortunately for you, I am a man of culture so I’m willing to educate you.” He smiled wide and knowing as he clicked to the next song. Aina shrieked and swerved as the dulcet tones of Simple Plan’s Welcome to my Life filtered through the speakers.

“So help me, I will wreck this car, Galo Thymos!” Her threat was overshadowed by her cackling as Galo began to dramatically howl along with the song. When they were kids, they would shamelessly pirate music and burn CDs for each other. Eventually, this escalated into making joke CDs full of songs that they each knew that the other absolutely hated and naming them things like ‘Music Galo Likes Because He ~~Sucks~~ IS VERY COOL AND HANDSOME - 2006’, or ‘Songs That Aina Picks Her Nose To - Vol. 2’. Naturally, they ended up competing to see who could survive listening to them the longest during their bus rides to school.

“Do you give up?” Galo shouted over the music, which he had turned up to the point that it was vibrating the windows on Aina’s shitty 2005 Corolla. “Beg for mercy, or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures!”

“Do your worst, bastard!” Aina challenged. She glanced at him with a smug little smirk. “I’ll never surrender. I’m immune to your bullshit!”

 _Oh ho ho,_ he would make her regret that. She stomped on the brakes and screamed as Simple Plan’s Welcome to My Life started to play again. “ _Fuck you_ , Galo! This song is going to be stuck in my head _forever_!”

Galo cackled. Victory was sweet.

\------------------

Aina pulled the car into the parking lot about ten minutes later, and Galo was too busy looking at his phone to realize where they were. She guided him inside, saving him from walking into a signpost while he was staring at his screen. He didn’t know why he was so fixated on the phone. It wasn’t like Lio could text him. Would a phone even get reception in actual, factual hell? There was no way to say.

“Hi, welcome to Hooters!” The hostess was falsely cheerful as she guided them to a table, sitting them right under an array of enormous televisions playing at least six different sports games. Galo didn’t know shit about sports, but he appreciated the effort. They ordered a beer each and a plate of wings. 

“Thanks for hanging out today,” he said, his mouth covered in sauce that he almost wiped off on the back of his hand before Aina’s glare convinced him to do otherwise. 

“Any time. Is everything okay?” she asked, eating far more politely than Galo could ever hope to. “You sounded like something was going on. Are you and Lio fighting again?”

“Oh god no,” Galo quickly answered, smacking his lips as he reached for another wing. “Nah, it’s more like uh, they’re having visa issues.”

“No shit?” Aina asked, eyebrows raised high on her forehead as she tore off another bite. “I didn’t realize they were international. Where are they from originally?”

Galo stalled for time by stuffing a whole stick of blue cheese-laden celery in his mouth, chewing it slowly. Finally, he swallowed it and answered, “Norway.”

“I guess that would make sense with their pale complexion and all.” Aina shrugged, accepting the answer. “Weird that they don’t have an accent though.”

“Yeah, they were educated in the states, so I guess that’s why,” Galo answered, waving his hand to ward off further questions. 

Aina was looking at something over his shoulder, her eyebrows drawn together as she looked around and pretended not to stare. “Hey, don’t freak out,” she began, which was never a good way for anyone to begin a sentence. “But those two hipsters over there have been staring at you since we walked in. Do you know them?”

Galo briefly glanced over his shoulder and immediately realized who it was. His face flushed as he noticed the hostesses grouped together by the bar, whispering back and forth amongst themselves, occasionally pointing at the two dorks who were trying and failing to hide behind a sad-looking and severely under-watered ficus.

“I don’t know, Galo…” Aina trailed off, looking down at her plate as she continued her act of not-staring. “They’re basically hiding in a house plant and have been watching you this whole time. Do you owe someone money or something?”

Galo frowned, wiping his fingers off on a napkin. “Lio asked them to keep an eye on me while they’re out of town,” he rolled his eyes.

“They look like weirdos, honestly.” she answered, continuing the act by turning around as if she were looking for a waitress. “Somebody’s going to think they’re being perverts.”

“Alright, I’ll check it out,” he said, stretching his arms up over his head. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he announced loudly, drawing annoyed stares from other diners. He marched away and kept an eye on the area Aina had indicated as he made his way toward the restroom. Sure enough, he’d hardly made it into the separate hallway where the bathrooms were before he caught sight of the two people Aina had spotted. They were clearly trying very hard to move without being noticed, but they made themselves nearly impossible to miss as they tried to sneak around the bar and toppled a poor unsuspecting waitress to the ground. Galo could do nothing but watch, rubbing his temples, as Lio’s two, now very human-looking, generals apologized profusely and helped the poor woman back to her feet. 

“Why are you following me?” Galo asked, grabbing the red headed demon by the sleeve of their shirt. “More importantly, _what_ the fuck are you wearing?” He looked bewildered as he took in the true majesty of the sight before him.

“This,” they answered, motioning smugly at their clothes. “Is called ‘fashion’. You should check it out some time.” It was decidedly not fashion as Galo would recognize it, but it was certainly something that someone’s Cuban dad would wear proudly on Easter or some other religious holiday. They wore glasses attached to a long granny-style chain, even though their vision was perfect. Their normally wild hair was stuffed into a pageboy hat and it decidedly did not match their guayabera shirt, which was half-tucked into plaid thrift store pants. The Birkenstock sandals really completed the look. 

Their companion rolled their eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind their ear as they blushed. “I told you that your outfit would get us caught,” he hissed, flustered at drawing so much attention to themselves. The long-haired man was dressed much less flamboyantly than their counterpart, choosing jeans, boots, and a leather jacket for himself. He did think he’d made a good choice with the Spider-man t-shirt. He liked the character, thinking that he too would wear pajamas all the time if he could. 

“Oh my godddd,” Galo groaned, dragging both hands down his face as he saw Aina approaching, looking very concerned. “Both of you? Shut up and go away. Meet me at the apartment later. We need to discuss whatever the fuck you think it is you’re doing.” Lio’s two generals started to argue but Galo shushed them aggressively and they vanished, just as Aina arrived.

“Galo are you- oh. I could’ve sworn you were talking to someone,” she said, stopping in her tracks. “I would swear that those two weirdos followed you over here.

“Nah,” Galo answered, trying to act nonchalant. “I guess they left.” He supposed he should make it look convincing, but he was sure that Aina knew something weird was going on. He excused himself to the bathroom and left her standing in the hallway.

\------------------

Lio’s arrival back in the palace keep was as abrupt and graceless as being thrown ass-first through a windshield. They had only been vaguely thinking of their destination when they’d stepped through the doorway, as they were focused on putting on a brave face for Galo. Unfortunately, they’d ended up on one of the secure dungeon floors and the sudden incoming burst of plane-shifting magic immediately tripped all of their carefully placed wards. Howling alarms echoed through the hallways as blinding flashes of burning white phosphorus flared from ward points along the wall, and Lio would have rolled their eyes if they hadn’t been in such a hurry to draw the symbol to dismiss them. While they were happy that the magic had held while they’d been away for so long, they were annoyed by the fact that everyone in the palace was now alerted to their presence. They moved with purpose, navigating the reversals and winding corridors up from the basement floors and into the main hall, weaving past the various wandering servants and other palace staff in an effort to remain undisturbed. During their time as suzerain, they had found that the only way to get anywhere in the palace without being swarmed by well-wishers, beggars, advisors, or the like was to move unnaturally fast while looking very, very angry. 

Their gaze swept carefully across the corridor before they deftly traced the runes in the air that would let themself into the hidden door of their private study. This place, whose location was only known to their two most trusted generals, was the last sanctuary that they had in this realm. They took in the state of the room, which was just as they had left it but for the thin layer of dust that coated everything. They traced the pad of a clawed finger across the wood of the desk, leaving a stripe behind. The air of their native realm felt heavy with tension, with anticipation, and Lio could taste it. The undercurrents of power that fueled their people were thrumming with unusually strong pulses, as if waiting for Lio to call their name. The realm itself knew that something was coming, and it felt like electricity was coursing through the pulp of Lio’s teeth. They caught sight of themself in the dark glass of the scrying mirror and did not recognize themself. Dressed in the finery of their station, they felt at odds with themself for the first time in their life. They supposed that they’d gotten used to navigating the world in a humanoid form, so it was to be expected that their natural body would feel cumbersome and clumsy by comparison. Still, they were a prince and they needed to present themself as one. 

The chest where they stored the remaining relevant items was keyed with a magical lock and would only open for their hand. The chest itself was carved from a solid piece of polished malachite, its faces decorated by rippling rings of jade, black, and green. The hardware and ornamentation were silver and heavy with filigree. Lio was unsure of its real origin, as it was made by human hands. They’d chosen it specifically for that reason, for no other demonic hand could touch the silver. Lio had specifically chosen it for that purpose, as it was made to keep other people out. All of the items held within would only respond to them, for they were of Lio’s own magic and knew it well. They drew the symbols in the air, tracing flaring lines of teal and pink as they wrote the symbols that spelled out the passkey. The hinges creaked a little, striking sharp and shrill in the otherwise silent room. Lio eyed the contents before carefully reaching inside. They buckled the sword belt around their narrow hips to let the blade hang wicked and bright at their side. Several minor items of clothing followed. They kept the tight-fitting leather trousers that they usually favored. They were well-broken in and supple, and Lio knew that they could fight in them. Over a white linen shirt and cravat, they wore a rich black and silver brocade vest. Next, they unfolded several delicate silk scarves and the fabric unfurled into a sleek pool at their feet. Their enormous hands with their sickle-shaped claws delicately shaped the sash and wrapped the material over their chest. It hung gracefully at a diagonal from shoulder to hip, were pinned in place with the crest of Lio’s house. Their colors were vibrant and fine, perfectly matched to the distinct shades of Lio’s fire. 

Finally, they lifted the last and most delicate object from the chest. The crown was unlike those worn by the other suzerains, as this was one that Lio had made for themself. Their position was hard won, and the crown they’d made reflected that in its rough nature. Fractal-like vines of raw-looking silver wound over and around and through each other, branching off and winding back on itself in a way that no hand could ever accomplish. No, this was no man-made item, it was formed from Lio’s own blood and magic. The delicate metal was adorned with pearls and glossy black opals that glittered as if they held living fire within them. See, these were things not found in this realm. Their inherent value was their otherness, showing that Lio was worthy of their grace. Gems and precious metals were earthly treasures, greedily grasped at by jealous and covetous hands. Lio had collected each piece by hand in the years they’d spent wandering the earth in their search for Galo. Every time they had gone to the human plane, they took more and more pieces of it back with them. Lio did not need jewels or treasures to set them apart from the other demons, but it was a symbol that mattered.

They pulled parchment from one of the drawers of the desk, and it crinkled pleasantly beneath their touch. It was yellow from age and had been since before it had come into Lio’s possession. They did not need ink or a pen for this. Formal invitations required a far more personal touch, and Lio drew the razor-fine edge of a claw across the back of their hand. The thin flesh parted beneath the movement and blood pooled at the surface, filling in the gaps between scales as it welled. Not only was Lio’s blood a signature, unable to be forged or replicated, it was a contract. It marked the invitation as a solemn oath, and it was binding. It could not be ignored. The message they scrawled across the heavy paper was swallowed up by the fibers, the words pulled apart by the parchment until they colored it all deep red. Not a single word was discernible when it had finished its spread, but the message was not meant for all to read. To the eye of a common or lesser, the invitation would appear only as a fist-sized blood stain on crumbling parchment. The words would manifest only when the invitation had arrived in the hands of its intended recipient and would not reveal itself to any other reader. Lio had fashioned that little bit of magic themself and was quite proud of it. They folded the paper delicately, folding it over and back on itself until it formed its own envelope. 

They held their head high, drawing their shoulders back until they stood at their full height as they prepared to exit their study. The act had to begin now, and they could not fail. They let themself out into the corridor and waited until the entrance had secreted itself away again. They made their way to the audience hall, looming tall over all of the lessers they passed on their route. Every demon that crossed their path stood pressed tight against the wall, unwilling to be in Lio’s way, or caught up in their wake. Even the sound of their walk was authoritative, the sound of their claws clicking like stiletto heels on marble as they made their way to the audience hall. The great doors swung open as if in anticipation of their arrival, and Lio walked to the dais unescorted. Without their generals at their side, the room felt too big, too empty, but this was the way it had to be for the moment. Still, what Lio would not have given for the comfort of their presence at that moment. The hall was silent as Lio’s subjects knelt in deference, waiting for their command.

“Everyone,” Lio addressed every demon the same way, regardless of their rank. “Please come listen, I have something important to tell you. If there are others that are not here but are elsewhere in the palace, please call for them. This is an urgent matter.” As they took their rightful place at the head of the hall, their flames flared high and hot behind them. Their fire had become known far and wide across the realm, for it was unusual in its coloration and its nature. This nature was demonstrated for all in the hall to see in one of Lio’s trademark nonchalant displays of showmanship. The gout of flames grew ever brighter and the heat that rolled from it was searing as it climbed up the walls of the hall and spread across the floor in a ring. As suddenly as they had flared, they were gone, crystallizing to form the massive body of a crystalline throne. They lowered themself down onto the throne, sitting with the open and relaxed posture of a parent telling a story to their children. 

“How was your trip, prince?” a small voice came at their elbow. A young demon stood there, gripping onto the arm of Lio’s crystal chair. She looked up at them with big green eyes, wide with excitement. She had a wild mop of curly brown hair, swept up off of her face with a strip of blue fabric. She was the youngest child of one of Lio’s advisors and was always underfoot in one way or another. 

Lio smiled as she climbed up to sit on the arm of their chair, perched there like a tiny bird and chirping at them just the same. “I plan to tell you all about it, but you must be patient, Thyma.”

“Yes, lord,” she grumbled, sticking out her lower lip as she pretended to pout. She giggled when Lio pinched at it. When the last of their people had settled before them, they began to speak. 

“As many of you may know, I have been searching for something in the human realm for a long time, something very dear to me,” Lio said, addressing the small crowd before them. There was a clamoring of agreement. It was common knowledge, how Lio was looking for some beloved, precious thing they’d lost. “Well,” they paused, clearing their throat before continuing. “I hope that you will be pleased to learn that I’ve found it.” The crowd erupted in a flurry of happy chatter, and Lio could not suppress a smile. They stood from their throne, and moved to sit on the floor with them, to make himself their equal. “You all chose me as your leader, and I accepted that responsibility with pride and honor. Now, I ask you for a favor.” The whispers in the hall grew to a clamoring chatter as they waited for Lio to continue. When they quieted down again, Lio continued. “But there is something I have not told you, but it is important that I do so now.” Lio chewed on their lip, trying to muster their courage. “The thing I searched for was a person. A human man, and I would like to be with him for as long as he will have me.”

The crowd was a flurry of talk, heated and animated as they debated amongst themselves. Lio still sat, as close as they would ever be to prostrating themself before the people they loved and served. A small voice was heard above the rest, and Lio looked back over their shoulder to see Thyma, standing on the seat of their throne with her hands balled into fists. She stood as tall as her tiny body would let her, tail lashing behind her as she demanded the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Everybody _listen!_ ” came her shrill cry, and the volume decreased, although many were annoyed at being addressed in such a way by a disrespectful child. “Our prince has done so much for us, and they have never asked for anything in return. I think we should let our prince be with their beloved person!”

Lio’s eyebrows nearly flew off of their forehead. They had never heard Thyma speak to anyone with such ferocity. She was normally a very shy child and had taken years to warm up to even Lio, whom she adored. She stood still and stiff, as if she would lose her strength if she moved even a muscle.

“Lord, if I may?” a woman stepped out of the crowd, separating herself enough so that Lio could see who was addressing them. 

“You may speak freely, lady,” Lio answered softly, still seated on the steps of the dais.

“Lord,” she began, hesitating for a moment. “Who will rule in your stead?” 

“My generals,” Lio answered immediately. “They are my brothers in all but blood, and I trust them to make the best decisions for us all.”

“But lord,” she continued, squaring her shoulders. “There is a rumor of an uprising. Our enemies are still ever-present. What will we do if you are not here to defend us?” She looked around amongst her peers to garner their support and they all looked stricken.

Lio smiled softly in what they hoped was a comforting gesture. “I have a plan for those matters already. I have written a formal invitation to the Seventh Son of Aeshma, who my sources tell me is responsible for the threat.” Lio paused as they waited for the crowd to settle down again. “I intend to call him here for a diplomatic meeting, and barring that…” they trailed off, letting the crowd fill in the rest. “I will not allow a war to happen. My life will be forfeit long before I allow any of you to come to harm. All I ask is that you trust me.” Lio stood again, lifting Thyma into their arms. She clung to them, scowling out at the crowd like a fussy cat.

They spoke amongst themselves for a long while, but Lio was patient. Lio’s patience and love for their people was eternal. They could wait as long as their people needed them to, but they hoped that they could go forth with their blessing. Lio wandered the hall, chatting idly with Thyma about what she had been learning in her studies while they had been gone. The child refused to let them put her down, remaining in their arms as she clung to their neck.

“Lord,” called the voice of a man over the crowd. “We have all discussed it.”

“And your answer?” Lio asked, apprehensive and soft.

“We love our prince, and we are troubled at the thought of you leaving.” The man looked back over his shoulder at his fellows, and they all nodded. “Still, we want your happiness. You may go to this person, but on the condition that the uprising is a settled matter before you do so.” The man wrung his hands nervously, and the demons behind him nodded and clamored in agreement. 

“Those are fine terms,” Lio answered, bowing their head gratefully. “I agree with them as you have spoken them. I will send the invitation I spoke of previously at once.”

“Very well, prince,” Thyma chirped in her best impression of a grownup at court.

“We have much to do,” they said, clapping their hands as their voice rang out. “Tomorrow, we will host an honored guest. Please make this place worthy of their presence.” Lio smirked as they were greeted with a bunch of rude snorts of laughter as they said the word ‘honored’. They could not suppress a chuckle themself as they dismissed the group, and the palace staff came to greet them in turn. Before they got swept up in well wishes and greetings, they quietly sent Thyma off with the letter, trusting her with the special task of delivering it to the postmaster. The wheels were in motion. Lio could only hope that this would go according to plan.

\------------------

The invitation arrived in the Tower of Aeshma bound to the foot of a Stymphalian bird. It screeched a call that echoed off of the rough-hewn stone walls and reverberated around the vestibule as the courtier, whose shoulder it sat upon, carried it to the door of the bedchamber. Their gnarled hand shook as they reached out to rap on the splintering wood, a sharp shard piercing the skin of their fingers where it protruded from a rough claw mark that scarred the wood. They hissed through jagged teeth as they pulled their hand away, reaching to pluck the splinter from between the knobs of their arthritic knuckles. The mottled green of their skin was stained with blood, and they rubbed at it to sooth the wound. In their moment of distraction, the door swung inward. A shaft of sallow light fell across the corpse of what had once been a fine woven carpet. Its color was now faded, and it lay in tatters from years of ill treatment and violence. 

The courtier hesitated, knowing that they were forbidden to enter the master’s chamber, but this appeared to be an invitation. They took a hesitant step inside but stopped short at the threshold. A massive silhouette loomed over them, and the courtier quailed as they bowed and tried to present the Stymphalian bird to their master. The master took a lurching step forward, their crown of antlers scraping across the stone ceiling causing a shower of stone dust to fall forward. Ribbons of bleeding velvet hung from the exposed bones, slapping wetly against the pale porcelain skin of his chiseled jaw. It caught in his mouth, snagging against the hundreds of tiny needle-sharp teeth that protruded from his jaw in concentric circles. He chewed at it as if it were a tough piece of meat, slurping at it as he tore it from the bone. Streaking trails of mucous and blood snaked over his cheek as he fed, and the courtier turned to flee. The master’s eyes remained placid and serene throughout, as though no emotion could touch them. Although a demon themself, the courtier knew evil when they saw it. Their master stood before them in all his feral, divine glory and they tasted the sour, spoiled-milk taste of real fear.

The master’s jaw yawned before them, falling open as he swallowed the Stymphalian bird whole, message and all. His hands seized the neck of the courtier, snapping it like a toothpick before the courtier could even process what had happened. As they were wrenched apart into bite-sized pieces, they vaguely noticed that the master spit up a piece of paper, followed by the mangled bird. It was folded intricately, and the master’s clumsy, brutish hands tore it apart in their efforts to open it. A pool of blood lay in the center of the paper, and it shifted and writhed across the surface to form words as the master opened it. It took a moment, long enough for the master to eat the courtier’s arm and leg, before the message appeared. The half-eaten Stymphalian bird flapped and shrieked about the master’s head as he smiled, cruel and sickle sharp as he read the words that flowed across the paper. The animal screeched in pain as it was snatched from the air and crushed in the master’s fist, until nothing but blood and hollow, broken bones remained. With a voice that sounded far too smooth when juxtaposed against the horror of their appearance, he said, “ _Invitation accepted._ ”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final preparations have begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hi hello everyone! It's been a while, hasn't it? I promise I haven't forgotten this fic, but the world has been wild lately. I am currently under quarantine and have been spending 100% of my time writing a doctoral dissertation and a manuscript, so this has had to take a back seat to those other priorities.
> 
> I anticipate that this fic will end up being anywhere from 20-22 chapters, including epilogue. We are getting into the shit now, and I hope to have an update for you in a week or so if my schedule stays consistent. I really love this story and it has been an absolute blast to write, so I am really grateful for all of your kind comments and kudos. They keep me going and make me writing feel worth it.
> 
> I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy. 
> 
> \- cap

The drive home with Aina had been strange, as she kept looking at him like she wanted to ask a question that she did not know how to form. Even if he could have answered it, it would not have made things any clearer. He was grateful that for once, she chose to let something go. She had dropped him off, giving him one last weird look before wishing him a good weekend and asking him to please take care of himself. Galo had put on his sunniest, most convincing fake smile and brushed it off before beating a hasty retreat toward his and Lio’s apartment. He paused as he heard movement inside and the sound of the TV as he went to put his key in the lock. The racket coming from inside his home could only be the oven door aggressively being opened and closed like it was part of a rhythm section. Galo looked up at the sky to silently curse God or whatever for giving him such a fucking weird life. He let himself in, preparing himself to be annoyed with what he would find there.

Sure enough, there in the kitchen were Lio’s two generals. The redheaded one was gleefully slamming the oven door open and closed while their companion looked on with what could only be described as a vaguely fond yet entirely exhausted expression. The activity stopped immediately as the redhead greeted him with a big grin and an exuberant wave. The other man rolled his eyes upon seeing Galo.

“Ugh,” the man lamented. “Nice of you to finally show up.” 

“Bro, don’t be a dick to me in my own house,” Galo retorted, a little hurt at the rude greeting.

“Sorry about him, he’s still embarrassed about getting caught spying!” The other demon was still clad as they had been at the restaurant, but now they had added a very 1970’s era mustache to their disguise.

“What’s with the, uh…?” Galo asked, gesturing to his upper lip in the shape of a mustache. “You look like an old school porn star.”

“What’s porn?” the demon asked, playing dumb and cocking their head to the side like a confused puppy. Galo, gullible as ever, froze in place for a moment before stammering as he searched his brain for a way to avert this particular shitshow. When he could think of nothing, he abruptly turned on his heel and shut himself in the bathroom, followed by the sound of raucous laughter.

After five minutes of silence, he felt he had gained enough of his composure back to let himself out into the living area again. The demons were still there waiting for him, now looking slightly less human. Galo supposed that even with all of their fashion experiments, they would still prefer to be in their natural forms the most. He tried to diffuse some of his anxious energy by sorting through the stacks of paper and arranging some of the items on the bar top while he tried to come up with something to say. He did not have to wait long.

“The boss asked us to keep an eye on you while they’re away,” the long-haired man explained, voice flat with disinterest as he picked at his fingernails. “We will stay in shifts, one here and one with the boss. That will make it easier to relay information.” The redhead deflated a little as their partner mentioned splitting up, and Galo found that intensely relatable. “I will go back first, so my... comrade... will stay with you here.” He hesitated on the word comrade, trying to feign professionalism about what was so obviously an unprofessional relationship between the two.

“Will you be alright?” the man asked, and Galo shrugged.

“I’ll be fine. Lio gave me the plan and I just have to set everything up tomorrow,” he answered, as if it was actually that simple.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” came the deadpan reply as the man shuffled closer to his companion, who now clung to his elbow. He glowered at Galo before turning away and pulling his partner close. Galo was forgotten for a moment as the two demons consoled one another in low, hushed tones. It was… weirdly tender? Galo felt like a voyeur. He suddenly became very interested in a small baggie of some kind of herb that was in a little basket on the counter, busying himself with the task of counting the tiny leaves until they were done. When he got to 47, they reluctantly stepped apart. 

“I’ll be back at midday tomorrow,” the longhaired demon said, squeezing his companion’s hand one more time before he walked away. His hands flew in a flurry of activity as he began drawing shapes in the air with his elongated claws. A ring of magic sizzled in the air before anchoring itself into the kitchen wall, forming a portal. As he was about to enter the doorway, he turned to look at Galo and the redheaded demon. “Make sure to stay out of trouble,” he warned, raising a knowing eyebrow.

“I’ll keep a good eye on him, I promise!” the other demon responded, feigning their usual sunny attitude. Their smile was shaky as their lower lip trembled.

The man snorted and stepped through the door, calling back over his shoulder with a smirk, “I wasn’t talking about him.”

\------------------

Lio paced the floor of their study as they waited for their general to arrive. He had sent a message ahead, letting Lio know that he was coming but he had not come back yet. It was too early for things to go wrong but they were still overcome with the frenetic energy of worry that they carried. They were certain that they would eventually wear a track in the floor with their pacing, but they felt the crackle of incipient magic before they saw it. Their general was dumped out onto the floor at Lio’s feet in one of their typical clumsy arrivals. For all his mastery of magic, he still could not manage to manifest a terminal at an appropriate height. Lio rolled their eyes before offering him a hand to help him up. 

“You really must work on that,” Lio chided him gently, giving the man’s shoulder a friendly pat in greeting.

The man snorted, brushing off dust as he straightened his clothes. “So you keep telling me,” he chuckled. There was a brief ripple as he shifted, his body going briefly hazy and out of focus as he took his truest form. He stretched his limbs like he’d been sitting stiffly for a long time and shook his body like a dog. It was strange to see such a creature move that way, unfitting of his many graceful limbs. Finally, he raised his head, now at equal height with Lio. “What are your orders?”

“Hm,” Lio hummed disctractedly, thinking it over. “Galo is being watched over?”

The other man fought back the urge to roll his eyes as he sighed. “Yes,” he grumbled. “Your human is safe with our companion.”

“I don’t know why you are so upset,” Lio murmured, flipping through the pages of a volume that had lingered on their desk. “If I did not know you better, I’d think that you were being spiteful.” They darted him a purposeful glance.

He huffed, carding a clawed hand through his long, silky hair. “You know I do not approve of this… infatuation of yours. Even less so of your intentions to stay with him.”

Lio narrowed their eyes at him, frowning in a way that made their normally beautiful face ugly and severe. “I will give you one chance to speak freely on this matter, then I expect it to be settled.”

“Noted,” the man said, collapsing into a leather armchair on the other side of the desk before delicately tucking his limbs in around himself. “I will keep it brief. My questions are simple,” he began, his words punctuated by the _tik-tik-tik_ of his claws against the armrest. “First, is he really the person you have believed him to be? You’ve been waiting for him for a long time. Ten years is a lot of time to build up an idealized image of someone.”

Lio bit back a defensive retort, knowing that being hostile would not resolve the tension between them. They wrung their hands together, feeling the scrape of scales against bare skin as they tried to find the words. “Galo has been…” They trailed off, pausing on a breath. “Galo is the only thing I’ve ever wanted for myself.” 

The general’s face softened for a moment before he schooled his expression back into cool detachment. “You know that they don’t experience emotion the same way we do,” he said softly, almost sadly. “What will you do if he grows tired of you? What will you do if his love fades and you’re still bound to him?”

Lio turned and folded their arms behind their back as they faced away from their general. It was not a question that was asked out of a desire to be cruel, but it stung like a wound anyway. It was not something that Lio had not thought of. The sound of their breath was loud as they drew it in slowly through their nose. “There is no way to know the answer to that question,” they responded, and that was true. There was no way to know if Galo would ever grow tired of Lio, or if time would change him in a way that made it so that he and Lio did not fit together anymore. It was not a future that Lio could see, but that did not mean it was not among the many possible futures that existed for them. The thought sat sour in their mind so they pushed it away, refusing to give it another moment of attention. “But,” they began, clearing their throat when their voice wavered ever so slightly. “If that happens, then I will deal with it when it comes.” 

Their companion looked unconvinced and a little uncomfortable by Lio’s clear display of internal conflict, so he set the conversation aside. It was something they could deal with together, if it ever came to that. In the meantime, they had preparations to make.

\------------------

Galo watched in a strange combination of fascination and horror as the demon assigned to keep him company ate. It was by no means a pleasant thing to watch, but there was a kind of sick curiosity that came with watching a snake unhinge its jaw to eat something that seemed far too big for its body. He’d never seen anything like this. His kitchen was a disaster zone, and his new acquaintance sat at the center of ground zero. Sauce covered their hands and face, a predictable outcome when one folds up three, possibly four, slices at once and shovels them into their enormous demonic jaws with all of the grace and poise of a goblin shark extruding its mouth like a slingshot to inhale some poor, unsuspecting fish. Galo, for his part, was no longer hungry. He could do nothing but sit there with a vaguely queasy green tinge to his complexion and a comically large frown on his face. 

“Are you going to eat that?” the hulking demon asked him, snatching the half-eaten slice of pepperoni from his plate before even giving him a chance to answer. It too followed its fallen brethren into the jaws of hell. Galo would have chuckled at that thought, if he didn’t think he would immediately barf if he did so. The horrible smacking sounds that filled the room as the demon’s big slimy tongue darted out to lick the sauce off their fingers almost did Galo in, and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to do some breathing exercises to calm his stomach. When he returned, he found the demon licking the grease out of the cardboard box their dinner had come in. 

“You look like a walking crime scene,” Galo scolded as he began to wipe at a gigantic crusted-over sauce-covered handprint on the counter with a sad dollar store paper towel. “Don’t you have any manners at all?” The demon merely grinned at him, big and unnaturally wide, like a Cheshire cat spat out of the mouth of the devil himself as it leaned down to be level with Galo’s head. He squawked and tried to flee as it grabbed him by the shoulders and unceremoniously used his hair as a napkin for its face.

“God _damn it_ , you absolute,” Galo stumbled over his words as he stomped to the bathroom, puffed up like a pissed off cat. “You absolute! You _fucker!_ I hate you! You horrible bastard!” He was still spitting a blue streak as he slammed the door behind him, and his tirade was drowned out by the sound of the shower running and the demon ugly laughing.

When he finally emerged from his rage shower, he was surprised to find the demon back in their human form, sitting cross-legged on the carpet and casually reading one of the heavy tomes. The kitchen was spotless, as was the demon themself. 

They smirked at him smugly as they asked, “Feel better?”

“Eat my fucking ass,” Galo spat, flicking the water from his hair at the dickhead that sat on the floor of his apartment. 

“So are you aware of like,” the demon trailed off as they paused to read what was scribbled on a sticky note stuck between two pages. “Are you aware of any preparations you need to do tonight?”

Galo’s answer was preceded by the hiss and crack of a beer being opened. “Got to finish organizing the materials for each circle. They’re kind of…” He paused, vaguely motioning to the little packets of herbs and other accoutrements scattered across the bar and the floor. “Everywhere.”

“I couldn’t tell,” came the sarcastic reply. “I’ll work on putting everything together for the uh, what do you call it. The safety circles. The salty one.”

Galo looked at the demon with increasing suspicion. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at magic?”

“Me? Gods, no,” the demon replied with a light laugh. “I’m the worst of the three of us at it. I honestly don’t know why they assigned me to you for this part.”

Galo paused for a long moment before draining the rest of his beer to drown out the feeling of alarm building behind his sternum.

\------------------

When they had finished their shared task of organizing things, Galo’s jaw cracked as he yawned. His brain was still very much awake even though his body was craving sleep. He showed the demon how to raise the leg rest on the recliner before he himself settled into bed. He knew he would end up lying awake. It was inevitable with the kind of apprehension that laid heavy across his chest and belly.

“Hey,” he whispered into the dark after a long silence. The demon grunted in acknowledgment and Galo continued. “Is that guy your boyfriend?” The spluttering cough that came in answer gave Galo all the information he needed.

“B-boyfriend?” the demon retorted, trying to play it off with a cool air. “What are we, children? As if. We are just… very close... friends,” they finished lamely. 

“Yeah, sure,” Galo snorted, amused by the adamant denial. “Whatever you say, pal.” 

The demon sighed dramatically, and Galo could hear the dull thunk of their skull hitting the recliner’s headrest. “Why would you think that we’re… together? In the first place?” The question had come after a few seconds of slow dripping silence, their voice quiet as it traveled through the dark. If Galo didn’t know better, he would have interpreted it as shyness.

“Well, it’s just the vibe you give off I guess?” Galo replied, unsure of how to explain his thoughts. “You’re always intense, and I’ve never seen you apart. I don’t know.”

Galo couldn’t see them, but he could hear the drumming sound of their claws tapping against their scales while they thought it over. “I don’t know what you mean by intense. We’ve always been like that. I didn’t know it was unusual.”

Galo carded his fingers through his hair. “You’re very... absorbed? I guess, is the right word? In each other. Like, he’s very aware of you and he acts on your feelings before you do?”

“That’s the way he’s always been,” the demon murmured. “It doesn’t mean we’re together. It doesn’t mean that he cares for me in a way that goes beyond our assigned duties or friendship.”

“Well, between you and me?” Galo asked, not really asking the demon if they wanted his opinion. He was going to give it anyway. “He absolutely does. Whatever’s going on between the two of you is _way_ more than friendship.”

“He doesn’t feel that way about me,” the demon answered, muttering as if reassuring themself of that fact.

“Oh yeah? If you called for him right now and asked him to come, what do you think he’d do?” Galo asked. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so hell bent on making sure this demon knew that their friend was in love with them, but he’d already come this far. “Come on, what do you think he’d do?”

“I-,” they chewed their lip, hesitating. It was not a question they’d been asked before, but they knew the answer right away. “He’d get here as fast as he could,” they grumbled, annoyed at helping Galo prove whatever point he was after.

“What would you do if he asked Lio for a different work partner or whatever? I don’t know how rankings work in your government.

Galo’s question landed like a blow to the face. They had never considered the possibility that the other man might leave them. Still, even though they were inexperienced with putting words to their emotions, it did not mean they did not have them. “I want him to be happy,” their voice was rough as they fought to get the words out. “That is all that matters to me,” they said, knowing that it was only a half-truth. “But… I want him to be happy with me.”

“Uh huh. That feeling?” Galo said gently, touching a hand to his own chest. It ached with Lio’s absence. “Caring that much about someone’s happiness and valuing it over your own? Being willing to get hurt if it meant that they’d be happy? That’s love.” The impact of Galo’s revelation was slightly dulled by his obnoxiously loud yawn. “Anyway, goodnight,” he chirped as he turned onto his side and clutched Lio’s pillow to his chest as he burrowed deeper into the covers.

The demon sat in silence for a long time, listening to Galo’s rhythmic breathing deepen. They could hear his heartbeat, the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment. They listened to its steady rhythm for a moment before they mumbled to themself, “.... Fuck.”

\------------------

Lio’s claws made small scratching sounds as they traversed the stone floor of the corridor, their general in tow. The man was keeping pace with Lio’s almost manic energy as they made their way toward the main hall where the major preparations were taking place. 

“Anyway, how do you propose to pick this fight short of throwing a punch?” the general asked, questioning eyebrow cocked high on his still-humanoid face. “You’re not exactly diplomatic but the man is known for being extremely unflappable.”

“Simple,” Lio answered, trying to keep up the facade of confidence. “We make him lose his composure.”

The man frowned. “I trust you, lord, but _how_? How do you provoke a man as emotionless as him?”

“We must consider his strengths before we look for his weaknesses,” Lio answered, stopping in the middle of the hall. The general stared at them, silent in the wake of the aura of unflappable calm that lingered around Lio. “He is cunning, but selfish. He is powerful, but shallow. He is calm but detached. What does a man with absolute power hate the most?”

“They hate...” the general responded, scratching at his wrist uncomfortably. “Their authority being questioned? Wait, are you sure that will work? He doesn’t seem the type to worry about such a thing.”

“Intelligence we’ve gathered from his kingdom says that anyone that disobeys the crown is risking execution. He most recently dismembered one of his courtiers for entering his private chamber. He is a monster, but an intelligent one. He will expect a head-on attack, and he will expect a trap. He is going into this with the expectation of an ambush.”

“So, we have to do what he least expects,” the general asked, eyes glinting with the thrill of understanding as he finally caught on to what Lio was suggesting. “What are your orders?”

“Move all staff out of the palace for now. Only those that are absolutely necessary to running things stay on. Notify them, and then strengthen the wards.” Lio’s eyes darted back and forth as they spoke, providing the general only a glimpse of the rapid-fire activity happening in Lio’s mind.

“All of them?” the general asked, frowning. There were at least a hundred wards on the ground floor of the palace alone. “Even the upper floors?”

“All of them,” Lio answered, jaw squared and set firm as they thought over what they would do next. “Better get started. Have the other advisers assist you on the external wings and the top floors. Handle the main floor yourself. We can’t afford to make mistakes here.”

“I know, we need to keep everything contained to the main hall, and barring that, the ground floor,” the long-haired man said, his mind drifting to thoughts of his absent companion. He felt a strange twinge in his chest as he wondered what they were doing at that moment. “I will not fail you”

“I know,” Lio answered, giving the general a brief squeeze on the shoulder with a clawed hand. “When you’re done with that, find me. In the meantime, I will prepare the great hall myself.”

“Understood,” the general answered, nodding sharply before disappearing down the corridor in the direction of the stairwell. 

Lio scrubbed a hand over their face to force themself to focus. They combed their fingers through their hair and smoothed out their clothes in a further effort to collect themself. “Please, just this once, do not let me fuck this up,” they muttered under their breath as they took off, striding with purpose in the direction of the main hall.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last preparations before the powder keg ignites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a while, hasn't it? This work is NOT abandoned. I've had a lot of things going on in terms of my personal life, but I felt a spark of creativity today and finally forced myself to finish this chapter. I hope to finish this up by the end of the year, and I appreciate all of your patience in waiting for the next installments. It's been difficult to find creative inspiration lately, but I hope you are all safe and well.
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos inspire me to write more. I look forward to completing this work.
> 
> There are no TW for this chapter.
> 
> \- cap

Sweat trickled from Lio’s brow as they pulled the last of their magic forward, pouring it out onto the floor and watching it seep into the porous stone. It sizzled against the ground on impact, sparks pinging off of the metal fixtures of the room as it raced along its path. As the last of the magic fell from their extended fingertips, their body sagged heavily against the nearest pillar. They were drained. They’d done too much, and they knew it. The sound of their breath was lost to the crackling burn of their magic, which traced and folded and coiled upon itself as it spilled itself into the lines of guidance they had drawn. Snaking across the floor, it wove itself into the concentric lines of the great circle before breaking off at the odd, crooked angles that Lio had laid out for it. Sweat beaded on their upper lip as they drove it on, shepherding it through each curve and turn although it required no accelerant, no tinder to burn. It was a fire lit by the force of Lio’s will, and it bent for them and them alone. 

The smooth curves and bold lines of sigils and runes rose forward, up through the stones like something floating to the still surface of a clouded pool. The symbols were of many languages, mismatched but chosen with great purpose. With a sound like crashing waves it rose, the rush of their magic flared so bright it was blinding. It rang out in Lio’s mind, resounding with the bell-like clarity that came with strong magic, and they knew that it was done. As quickly as it had come, the intricate arcs of magic sank away, falling back into the depths of the stone that they had arisen from. Lio’s shaking legs gave beneath them, and they sat down hard on the cold hard stone. Their chest rose and fell with their ragged breath as they wiped the sweat from their brow. As the adrenaline of the spell work wore off, they could feel the residual buzzing in their fingertips. Good. That was good, it meant that something had gone right. They could feel the electric hum of the spell as it lingered.

The sharp rap of a knock disturbed them from their drifting thoughts as the general let himself into the main hall. His brow furrowed in confusion when he took in the sight of Lio slumped sloppily on the floor but he did not hesitate to offer Lio a hand, pulling them the rest of the way to their feet before quickly looking around the hall. His nostrils flared, imperceptibly scenting the air for the residual tang of magic. His nose wrinkled when he found it, and he moved to brush dust off of Lio’s clothing and smoothing his own hair down. “All done here?” he asked, keeping a hand on Lio’s elbow to make sure that they would not collapse. 

“Yes,” came the answer. Lio’s voice was weary and thin, matching their pallid appearance. “What is the status of the preparations?”

“The advisors are finishing up on the top floor now,” he replied, looking Lio over. “You’ve overexerted yourself again. You need to rest.”

Lio waved a hand to dismiss the thought, but knew he was right. They had given more of themself to the protection of the hall than they had intended to, but that was the inherent risk of letting the magic choose for itself. It was a risky decision to give yourself over to the natural push and pull of the flow of it, but Lio needed it. Their work was guaranteed to hold more power if they let it happen that way. Lio let themself be half-carried, barely aware of where they were being taken. They were ruthlessly stuffed into a plush chair in one of the adjacent rooms, and their general crossed his arms and looked at him with an expression that dared Lio to try to fight their way out of the chair, and promised that doing so would end with physical violence.

“Rest, lord,” the general ordered. “We don’t have much time, and you’ll need all of your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” Lio conceded, waving him away with a half-hearted flap of the hand. Their general said nothing further but bowed out of the room as he murmured something about checking on the status of the palace’s reinforcements. Lio closed their eyes, but rest did not come.

\------------------

“For fuck’s sake, how hard is it to find a goddamn vein?” Galo hissed between his clenched teeth as the demon tried for the third time to place the butterfly needle for the blood draw. He yelped as he was poked in the ribs with a rather sharp claw and quieted down with a grumble.

“Alright, after this is done, we can move on to the other preparations. We have about ten hours until Lio will be ready,” the red-headed demon chirped cheerfully as they poked Galo yet again. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not as familiar with human anatomy,” they informed him, finally sliding the needle home. 

“No shit,” Galo retorted, biting back the urge to lash out due to pain and annoyance.

As the blood flowed out, the demon carefully changed out the vials. As he watched the deft and meticulous movements of their over-large hands, Galo tried to prevent his thoughts from drifting to Lio. If he thought of them, he would worry, and if he worried, he would panic. There was no good that could come from panic at this late stage, so he chewed on the inside of his cheek instead. “Is this enough?” Galo asked after a moment, gesturing toward the accumulated rack of tubes on the counter. 

“It will have to be,” the demon replied, deftly capping the last tube and shifting to a smaller form to access the refrigerator. “I think if I take anymore, you’ll shrivel up like one of those… I think they are fruits. What do you call them?”

“Raisins?” Galo supplied gruffly, making his disapproval known with the arch of a single, very annoyed eyebrow.

“That’s it!” the demon exclaimed, snapping their fingers as the information crystallized. “If I take any more of your blood, you’d become a raisin.”

“Gotta say,” Galo commented through gritted teeth as he pressed a gauze square to the needle puncture. “Not a big fan of seeing my blood next to all those Capri Suns. Seems a little… morbid.”

“I’ve seen weirder things,” the demon replied, only visible as a mop of red hair peeking up over the door of the fridge. “So that’s that. What’s next?”

Galo squinted at the hastily scrawled checklist they’d thrown together the night before. He frowned as he tried to make it out. “This just says ‘organize the leafs’. Bro, you misspelled leaves.”

The demon rolled their eyes and carefully started picking through the little Ziplock bags of various herbs and stones, sorting them according to another list that they’d scribbled on a scrap of exceptionally wrinkled notebook paper. “Okay… Dandelion root… Dried feverfew…” They shoved the baggies into Galo’s hands, pausing only to also hand him an empty basket. “There. Hold onto those.”

Galo’s nose wrinkled as the demon opened a packet to sniff at its contents. “What is that?”

“I think it’s wormwood?” they answered skeptically, turning the packet over in their hands before sniffing it again with a deep inhale. “Oh. Yes. Well, it would be helpful if I read the label. It’s wormwood.”

“Which circle is this for?” Galo asked, organizing the contents of the basket into a less haphazard fashion. 

“Protection,” the demon answered, tossing a bag of clover at him. “The salty one. Here, angelica root. Put that in that white bag. No, the little one with the drawstrings.”

After doing so, Galo scribbled the label ‘protection’ down on a sticky note and stuck it to the basket. They couldn’t risk getting disorganized now. “Okay. I think that’s the end of that list, right?”

“One more thing,” the demon interjected, holding up one finger to pause him as they continued their search. “Vervain.”

“That one isn’t on the list, though?” Galo replied, puzzled. “I don’t think you should add anything-”

The demon pulled a sprig of it from the plastic bag. “Trust me on this one,” they said, gently setting the plant in Galo’s hand. “This is something for you to carry. It enhances the properties of the other ingredients around it.”

“You’re the one who said you’re not good at magic! I don’t know about this! Are you sure it won’t like, turn my skin inside out? Or give me two heads?” Galo babbled, trying to avoid crushing the little purple flowers as he tried to push them back toward the demon. Still, some of the silky petals crumpled in his hands, only becoming further crushed as he screeched in alarm and tried to fruitlessly stick them back on to the little spring of plant matter.

“Look,” the demon sighed, exasperated as they placed their hands on their hips. “Yes, but I really, really need you to trust me on this one. We’ll need to make an extraction, so boil some water. Please.”

Galo eyed them warily for a moment before conceding. “I guess you do know more about this than I do. But I swear to god, if I explode or something, I’m going to kick your ass.”

The demon chuckled softly and went back to sorting the piles.

\------------------

Lio moved in a kind of dissociated daze as they shuffled off to have a bath in preparation for the evening’s events. They stared at their distorted reflection in the metal of the tub as the hot water washed over them. The heat of the water made some sense of feeling seep back into their body, but they still felt disconnected. It wasn’t an emotion they were used to. Was there a name for a sensation of dread so deep and visceral that it made you numb, that you could feel it in the soft insides of your bones? They would never say it out loud, but they were terrified of what was to come. It was not so much a fear of the monster they would face as it was a fear of failure. The potential for physical suffering was nothing to them, but the pain of loss? Of defeat and disappointment? That was something that could leave a real scar. The robotic feeling continued as they moved on autopilot, drifting through their rooms, unsure of what to do next.

A knock sounded at the door, and once again the long-haired general slipped into the room like a shadow. “Are you planning to attend dinner like that?” he asked, one graceful eyebrow arching up in amusement. 

Lio looked down at themself, feeling more present than they had in the past hours. They frowned as they took in their own appearance. “I suppose pants would be appropriate,” Lio answered, turning away to rummage for trousers in the closet. The clothing they would choose had to be purposeful. Each piece was selected for its functionality, nothing like the usual finery expected of formal events. There would be no ceremony, for this was a guest undeserving of extravagance. That was not the point of this evening. They pulled the leather trousers up their pale thighs, carefully threading their tail out through the back of the garment before fastening them closed over their slim hips. They had chosen these for one reason, and it was that they were easy to move in. Lio had long since broken in the leather, and they moved along with their body’s movements like a second skin. If it came to physical combat, then they would surely have an advantage by wearing clothing that supported free-flowing motion. 

“Let me help you,” the general said, gently bumping Lio aside to dig in the wardrobe. He pulled out a loose white shirt, like the one Lio had worn the previous day. “No vest, no jacket. Put on the sash belt, and you’ll be ready.” He said nothing as Lio dressed, and only fussed over their lord’s appearance once they were done. Situating each fold of cloth, each fair hair on their head until they looked perfect. Well, perfect for the nonchalant, oh-I-didn’t-see-you-there look they were hoping to achieve.

“You should know,” the general said slowly. “Our guest will arrive within the hour.”

“Any word from our counterparts?” Lio asked, unsure as to whether they could handle hearing about Galo at this moment. 

“None,” the man answered, patting Lio on the shoulder reassuringly. “We must assume that no news is good news. Between them, they have enough brain power to do this right.”

Lio huffed a laugh, but it was half-hearted. This plan was a gamble at best. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, however reluctant it may be. Did you set the messenger?”

“Yes,” the general replied, stepping away to take one last look at Lio’s appearance. “I’ve placed the activation component on your dining chair. It’s located under the edge of the left arm, and I’ve made it so it will only respond to you. It will trigger when you give the symbol a rapid triple tap. They’ll receive the start signal within seconds.”

“His men will want to sweep the room. Will it be detected?” Lio clenched their fists to stop their urge to fidget. 

“Unlikely,” the man answered, flicking a stray strand of black hair over his shoulder. “It’s well shielded. They’d have to know what they were looking for to find it.”

“Good,” Lio sighed, always grateful for their general’s forethought. “If I stay in this room any longer, I may actually go insane.”

“I’ll accompany you,” the general acquiesces, holding the door open for Lio. They say nothing as they make their way to the main hall, each lost in thoughts of their respective companions.

\------------------

Far from the events taking place in the palace, Galo and the red-headed demon sit in similar silence, awaiting a message.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you invite the devil in, do not be surprised if he makes himself at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, the comments on the last chapter made my heart so happy. The positive reception of this fic blows my mind every time I think about it. I am so glad that you are all still here, enjoying this work. There are still many chapters left, as I hope to break the remainder of the story into smaller, bite-sized chunks rather than the bulkier chapters it has been in the past.
> 
> Your comments and kudos honestly inspire me. I appreciate each and every single word that you write.
> 
> All the best, and I hope all of you are safe and well.
> 
> \- cap

Dread crept up around Lio’s ankles like flood water. The chill of it seeped into their bones, burrowing under their nails and into the soft space beneath the scales that ornamented their flesh. That frigid, creeping feeling of terror moved slowly and steadily, contrary to the galloping beat that anxiety pounded out against Lio’s heart. The long-anticipated guest arrived with a much less dramatic entrance than anticipated. The son of Aeshma had never been one for pageantry, but it was no surprise that dark clouds preceded him. Such was the traditional fanfare that heralded the arrival of some higher demon, some nobility or royalty of Lio’s realm. The son of Aeshma was nothing if not a holdout of tradition, an addict whose only vice was ceremony. 

The ground cracked beneath the stilted wheels of the carriage as it raced along the obsidian gravel of the pathway, crushing the stone into fine powder beneath its tread. The beast that pulled the carriage was hulking, its body clearly piecemeal and clearly assembled from the parts of lesser beings into something fit for just this task. Its height stood about twenty-eight hands at the shoulder, impossibly tall for the proportions of its limbs. The spindly, skeletal structures of its legs were held together with no more than scraps of sinew. Each tear in its flesh revealed flashes of dry, white bones that clicked together where the cartilage had long since decayed. Its shaggy coat seemed like an afterthought of its design; a burn-scarred rug haphazardly thrown over the jagged edges of its bones. Ugly was not a word that could begin to describe that pelt. It stank of mildew and infestation, an attribute that was reflected in its filthy gray color. There was no way this thing could be called an animal. It had never been an animal, never would be an animal, and none of its parts came from animals. It was a being whose quality was no more than roadkill. The flat-ground teeth of the beast, if it could even be referred to as such, clacked together loosely in its flat, spade-like head. Its elongated jaws had no tissue to speak of to anchor them, so the sound of its gait was accompanied by their rattling within their sockets as they vibrated against the bone that housed them. Each footfall it made was so heavy and clumsy that it seemed as if the bones would crack beneath the impact of its hooved feet. As it dragged the carriage forward, its ankles rolled loosely as if they would sprain at any moment. 

The carriage it was lashed to was not in much better shape. It too was constructed from scavenged parts, composed of as much wood as it was of bones appropriated from those that strayed too close to the site of its construction. The tattered awnings and draperies that adorned it flapped uselessly with the motion of its movement, barely tethered to the structure itself as the beast labored to drag it along. The structure’s harsh lines spoke nothing of elegant design, but instead of a bastardized imitation of the finery it was derived from. It was a carriage pretending at being a carriage, a vehicle constructed with neither love nor finesse, as if it were made for the sole purpose of delivering ill tidings.

It seemed like an eternity passed as the carriage and its beast of burden closed the distance and finally approached the entry of the palace. Lio stifled the urge to pace, to fidget, to claw at their face with nervous anguish as they waited for it to take its sweet time in its approach. The attendants in Lio’s employ opened the carriage door as they would for any other guest, but there was a blatant nonchalance and subtle disregard for proper etiquette that colored their actions. The tattered state of the carriage itself was soon explained as its passenger emerged. His labored, wet breathing accompanied his movement as he hefted his bulk through the narrow door. His face was placid as he emerged from the carriage like a nightmare made flesh, his visage made even more horrible by the bleeding velvet of his antlers, which scraped and punctured the ceiling as he moved. Any stomach, demonic or human, would have churned with the sound of wet, ragged flesh as it slapped wetly against his pale, sallow skin. The parts of the velvet that had dried and crusted over now stank of rot, the gangrenous stench wafting about with each movement. The antlers themselves were a crimson halo that protruded from random points around the crown of his once fair head. Tangled about them were strips of the soft, delicate material that sloughed from the bone, staining both his fair hair and scalp alike. The son of Aeshma slowly rose to his full height as he finally freed himself from his carriage, and as he towered over Lio, they wondered if this plan was an unfathomably grave mistake.

A slow, serene smile crept over his face as his heavy-lidded eyes fell on his host. It was not a smile that brought any sense of comfort. Even the vaguest whisper of friendliness was ruined by the pinpricks of blood that stained his lips, where they had snagged against his needle-sharp teeth. The concentric rows inside that too-wide maw were exposed even further as he loomed over the smaller demon, as if he were imitating a low bow in greeting. Lio, who had chosen a form of intermediate size, could feel themself being sized up, and they hoped that they would be sorely underestimated. From this moment on, everything would be founded on calculation and strategy. Every single second, every word would be a parry or lunge, and Lio knew that there was a risk of existential ruin with every shift of foot, every flick of wrist. This was a performance as much as it was a game, and Lio would win. They would win, or they would die. This thought crystallized with painful clarity as the son of Aeshma loomed over Lio, exhaling stale, bitter breath that puffed in hot clouds against Lio’s face. A wave of acidic revulsion roiled in Lio’s stomach, but they quashed the urge to react, to be indignant, because this was a waiting game. Patience was the key to enduring any kind of political or diplomatic interaction, and this was what this was supposed to be.

“Welcome, honored guest,” Lio greeted, tone cool and measured. This was the role they were born to play. “This house is grateful for the privilege of your visit.” Lio wanted to vomit. It was sickening to have to pretend like this. 

“ _It is an honor to be… invited,”_ the guest replied, feigning deference with a coy glance at Lio’s frame. Lio knew he was looking for the outline of weaponry and felt tense beneath the demon lord’s scrutiny. That half-moon gaze swept over Lio’s body like a physical touch, leaving them feeling vaguely nauseous when it was done. “ _I trust my visit finds you well_ ,” he continued, approaching Lio. “ _It is rare for you to extend such a gracious offer. You honor me, your lordship._ ” 

“Indeed,” Lio answered, internally wincing at the clipped reply. “There has been much to do in anticipation of your arrival. Come, you are welcome.”

It was almost physically painful to walk with their back toward their guest. It was a foolish risk to leave themself so vulnerable, especially to someone that posed such a clear and explicit threat. Allowing the son of Aeshma to stand in their blind spot was like putting your hand in the mouth of a viper and expecting it not to bite you. Lio focused only on the rhythm of their breathing, forcing it into a steady rhythm. It was an ongoing battle against the hummingbird spasms of their heart. Lio hoped that the son of Aeshma’s hearing was not keen enough to catch onto its frantic beating. 

The silence was nearly unbearable by the time they broke out of the corridor and into the main hall. Lio continued to walk ahead, desperate to put more space between them. They soon noticed that there were no footfalls following their own and turned to look back at the unwanted guest. The son of Aeshma, for his part, stood at the door to the great hall. 

“Are my halls not to your liking, lord?” Lio asked, genuinely confused by his hesitation at the door frame. Their gaze met the son of Aeshma’s own, and they fought the urge to look away as that milky white stare met their own. The clouded iris looked as if it should see nothing, as if it should be obscured, but Lio felt that stare as if it were a blade looking for purchase against their soft, pale belly.

“ _It is not so_ ,” came the low and gravelly reply. “ _I merely wish to make sure I am welcome_.”

There it was, Lio thought. The flaw, the weakness that bore a hole straight into the center of an otherwise impenetrable being. Their mouth tasted of copper as they bit their cheek to stifle the grin that threatened to break through.


End file.
